


Save Yourself

by oshunanat



Series: Ketchbriel [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brotp, Canon Divergence, Gen, Season/Series 13, post1317
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-04-26 00:31:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14390349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oshunanat/pseuds/oshunanat
Summary: Ketch saves Gabriel to save his own skin. A broken Gabriel latches onto him as a kind of security blanket. Sometimes the strongest friendships are built when no one is looking. This is a canon-divergence story, however I do dip back into the main canon as it makes sense for the story.This is a Bro-TP/Gen fic. Honestly, I think both guys are too broken to be in any kind of position to have a romance at this point in time and the story reflects that, with the overall intention being to help Gabriel heal from his nearly millennia-long captivity with Asmodeus and Ketch come to terms with what he's done with his life. This is from Ketch's POV, so if you don't like how Dean or Cas act in the fic, well, it's what canon gave us so go complain to the writers.Finally, this is being written in smaller (750-1000 word) chunks and being posted to myTumblra few times a week, but this piece will be updated as there are sufficiently large parts to share.





	1. Humble Beginnings

Getting Gabriel out of Hell had been comparatively easy compared to getting Gabriel into his car.

“Come _on_ ,” Ketch implored. “We must get going before an alarm can be raised!”

Gabriel looked at the car dubiously before his eyes frantically searched the area around them, as if seeking for any kind of alternative.

“I mean you no harm, I’m taking you to the Winchester Brothers, I swear it.”

Eyes whipped back around and _stared_ at Ketch, as if reading his soul for intention. Ketch wasn’t sure if he could, but in this instance, he was quite glad that he was being sincere. Finally, the archangel nodded.

“Thank you, Gabriel,” Ketch replied relieved as the angel finally slid into the passenger seat before Ketch closed the door.

*

Once on the road, the silence in the car was almost insufferable. He’d read up on Loki once it’d been revealed that the Trickster and the archangel had been one and the same and knew that this broken husk of an angel was nothing like his normal self.

“Shall I turn on some music?” he offered, not wanting to startle Gabriel.

A slow nod.

Ketch hit the button and a light Mozart sonata started to play softly through the speakers. To his chagrin the angel started getting frantic, making piteous noises and tugging on his seatbelt.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Ketch said as he immediately hit the scan button to find something else to play. He kicked himself for failing to remember that the demon was a fan of classical music. Something about not drowning out the screams of the tortured or other cliched rot.

A Christian rock station came on next and this time it was Ketch making a face. He was no longer a religious man. Realizing that so much of the divine and the infernal was so <i>human</i> took away the mystique and comfort that religion held for many. The song instead only caused him to think of Asmodeus’ taunts, of that the fact that he was almost certainly going to be condemned to Hell. It was a day he intended to put off as far as possible.

They both seemed to relax as a country station came on next.

Ketch hit the button again to keep it playing.

*

He found a rest stop a little more than half way on to their destination. It was poorly tended, some of the overhead lights were out and the landscaping was sadly neglected, and that suited Ketch fine. It meant more respectable types, the types who might spot Gabriel in his current state and reach out to the cops – would be more apt to keep driving instead.

“I need to relieve myself,” Ketch said. “Do you want me to help you clean up?” he asked. “I’ve a pair of scissors in my first aid kit if you desire.”

 

A fervent shaking of the head.

This wouldn’t have been his first choice to clean up at either, so he supposed he couldn’t blame the archangel.

“I will be back in three minutes, all right?” Ketch asked. “If I feel that I cannot return in that time, I will come back and give you a better estimate.”

A slow nod.

“Excellent,” Ketch said.

He felt the eyes watching him as he hurried to take care of himself.

*

Ketch stifled a yawn as they approached the last leg of the trip. Some atrocious black coffee and a hastily consumed breakfast sandwich had helped but overcoming adrenaline crashes could be rough.

He glanced over at Gabriel who had curled up on himself in the seat. His head was resting on his shoulders, his eyes fluttering shut.

“I thought angels didn’t sleep,” Ketch said softly, but still somehow pleased that Gabriel seemed to be at some kind of peace.

Gabriel didn’t wake until the car came its final stop.

*

Gabriel tilted his head at the structure before him.

“I know, I know,” Ketch said. “It’s decidedly rustic, but it is well warded. You will be safe here,” Ketch said. He left the “And hopefully, so will I,” unspoken.

Gabriel eyed him, suspiciously.

Ketch raised his hands as he reached into his coat pocket and retrieved his key.

“See? Just a key. Did you want to do the honors?”

Gabriel nodded and slowly unfurled his hand.

Ketch laid it there gently.

Gabriel wrapped his fingers around it and studied it, looking for watch, Ketch wasn’t sure, but finally took it and used it once Ketch showed him where to find the lock.

The bunker door swung open and Gabriel took a tentative step in, eyes widening as he took it all in. Ketch lead him to the library. It wasn’t too dark; the ceilings were as high as you could get outside the foyer and the worst of the hum of the machinery that kept the lights on and the air flowing through the bunker was minimized. Gabriel offered a timid nod of approval as Ketch offered him a chair.

“Excellent,” Ketch says. “You stay here, I have some things I must do. I will come grab you when they’re ready.”

A nod, even as he saw fear creeping back into Gabriel’s eyes.

He considered it, and briefly left the library to return a few moments later with a pair of walkie talkies.

“If you need me, press this button here and make noise and I will return to you, all right?” Ketch demonstrated how they worked. Gabriel jumped at first, but the nodded. “Did you want to try it?”

Gabriel pushed the button and squawked and jumped at the sound of his own noise, but he still seemed more settled, some of that fear leaving his eyes once more.

Ketch nodded, pleased with that reaction. He knelt down and looked the archangel in the eyes. “I will be back for you again, I promise.”

Another slow nod.

“Good man,” he said as he left to ready himself to plead his case with the brothers.

 

 

In the end, the brothers agree to let Ketch stay. It is unspoken that none of the three truly trust each other – even if Ketch thought he deserved at least _some_ trust by now for being forthright about his dealings and you know, actually bringing Gabriel back to them – but he could reluctantly admit that if their roles were reversed, he would be as skeptical as well.

“I will go with you,” Ketch said when Dean announced his intentions to start the rescue mission. Dean started to protest that someone needed to be there for a rescue mission due to the time constraints when Gabriel threw in his own opinion on the matter.

“Mmph! Mmph!” Gabriel moaned as Sam was busy trying to remove the stiches from the archangel’s mouth.

“Hold still, Gabriel,” Sam said. “I don’t want to accidentally cut you.”

Another whine escaped.

“It’s okay, Gabriel,” Ketch said trying to keep exasperation out of his voice. “He truly only wants to help.”

Gabriel eyed Sam wearily, but settled.

“Weird, man,” was Dean’s only comment as Sam finally finished cutting the bindings.

Gabriel moved his jaw experimentally, but otherwise said nothing, eyes still just flitting between all three men.

Sam put the scissors on the table, which Ketch promptly moved closer to Sam and farther away from Gabriel. He had a hunch it would be best to keep any and all sharp objects away from the archangel for the time being.

“No,” Sam said as he turned his attention back to Dean. “I’ll go with you. We’ll wait until we can locate Cas, then we’ll go. Cas has been to the other world too, he can open the portal just fine.” He glanced at Ketch. “For some reason, Gabriel seems to listen to what Ketch says. Cas can watch Ketch while Ketch watches Gabriel.”

“Why don’t we just let Cas watch Gabriel?”

Gabriel shook his head.

“Did they get along…before?” Ketch asked. Having an angel watching over Gabriel wasn’t the worst idea, but he couldn’t say he necessarily trusted the Winchester’s pet angel, and apparently Gabriel didn’t either.

“It was…strained,” Sam allowed.

“And rightfully so!” Dean said. “Gabriel was the one that sent Cas who the hell knows where when we were trapped in TV Land!”

“And yet you think it’s a good idea to have him watch Gabriel?” Ketch asked incredulously. He didn’t know the backstory there, but it was bloody common sense that you don’t give positions of power to people formerly abused by the person in need of watching. He may not know the full story, but Castiel’s own reputation when it came to dealing with the Host of Heaven was as colorful as the Winchester’s own. He’d be cautious too.

“Castiel wouldn’t do anything. He’s not that kind of guy,” Dean said defensively.

“And yet you think Gabriel is in a mental state to appreciate that or trust in that?” Ketch again asked, no less incredulous than before. The Winchesters were thicker than he thought possible.

Gabriel heard the raising voices and tried to make himself smaller in the chair.

“I am sorry, Gabriel,” Ketch said as he glared at the brothers who were busy glaring back at you. “We are not mad at you, promise. It’s just a difference of opinion.”

Another slow nod.

“So like I said,” Sam said turning the conversation back around. “What if we have Castiel watch Ketch and let Ketch watch Gabriel? Castiel has been there. He can always mount the rescue mission that we hopefully won’t need.”

Ketch bit back a huff of amusement at the thought of the Winchesters actually getting it right on the first try. Still, while it certainly wasn’t Ketch’s idea of a good time, having some extra fire power just in case Asmodeus’ goons came sniffing around wasn’t a horrendous idea.

“I am willing,” Ketch said.

“It don’t matter if you’re willing,” Dean said. “Those are the terms.”

Ketch opened his mouth and then just shut it again. Some fights weren’t worth having.

“Fine. I accept.”

Dean looked at Sam. “Let’s go find Cass. Daylight’s burning.”

The brothers left the room.

“Well then,” Ketch said. “Since we’re going to hunker down for a while, why don’t we clean you up?” Ketch offered. “How do you feel about a bath?” The archangel didn’t exactly smell, but the grime and dried blood that clung to the skin wasn’t doing the host any favors.

*

Caretaking wasn’t something that the Men of Letters taught at Kendrick’s. To the contrary, they’d taught that the best thing to be done for Gabriel would have been to simply eliminate him, as he would have been considered too compromised to ever be of value again.

The Arthur Ketch of two years ago would haven’t even thought to question that notion. Now though, as he watched Gabriel hesitantly sink into the only tub in the whole bunker – thankfully there _was_ a tub, even if it was metal and it had to be filled by strategically positioning it under the shower to fill it. It was slow, it was tedious, but it made for a bath that was warm enough to not be jarring to the skin, but not so hot as to irritate damaged skin.  He’d found what passed for a soft washcloth in the bunker and lathered it up with soap from his own stash. The archangel deserved any small luxury he could get.

“Do you wish for privacy?” He asked.

Gabriel grabbed onto Ketch’s sleeve and shook his head.

All right. He’d stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, not wanting to get his suit wet. When he was done, he turned to find that Gabriel had removed his clothes. The already diminutive archangel seemed even smaller without the rags that were covering him. Even through the grime, Ketch could see the bloom of bruises under pale skin. Either Gabriel’s grace was more drain than he thought, or the angel had retreated so far into the host’s form that he’d forgotten how to use it.

He helped Gabriel into the tub. Gabriel managed to wash his body, but Ketch still dutifully helped wash his hair. He was efficient, but gentle, having had to watch far too many wounds of his own. He was happy to note that color seemed to return to Gabriel the longer he washed.

“There we go,” he said as he finally helped him out of the tub and wrapped him in a robe that Sam helpfully dropped off while Gabriel was in the bath. “I dare say you already look more presentable than either Winchester.”

A small smile formed on scarred lips.

Gabriel spoke for the first time since the stiches had been removed.

“Thank you.”

Ketch found himself unexpectedly smiling back in return.

“You’re welcome.”

 

 

Ketch turned in the kitchen back on to the country music station, the bunker a little too quiet for his taste.

Gabriel was sitting at the small kitchen table; had hadn’t said anything since that quite thank you. Ketch had offered to get him a book to read from the library, but the angel had declined. Ketch could do quiet company. He often it enjoyed it himself. Whether it was necessarily the best choice for Gabriel at the given moment was a debate for another day.

“There you are,” Castiel said as he entered the kitchen. “I have been searching for you.”

“It’s not like we would have had far to go,” Ketch said crisply as he studied the pathetic contents of the refrigerator. It would have to do. Keeping a low profile was the only smart course of action at the moment.

“Did he hurt you?” Castiel asked Gabriel.

“Are you serious?” Ketch asked incredulous.  “Your brother has been a captive of Asmodeus for how long and your first question is “did he hurt you?!”

“I meant you,” Castiel said as he radiated unhappiness that Ketch had been allowed to stay, let alone been tasked to keep an eye on Gabriel.

Ketch was going to retort, but he didn’t have to. Gabriel rolled his eyes, a gesture that neither missed. He’d heard of the archangel’s penchant for sass, it seemed like it was a good sign that it was starting to peek through.

“There you go,” Ketch said reasonably. Ketch was many things but injuring someone he was deliberately saving to try and get himself more time walking this earth was the kind of stupid that the Winchesters might indulge in, but not him. “But for the more important question, yes, Asmodeus clearly hurt him. His body is littered with cuts and bruises in various stages of healing. The stiches across his lips were not new; the scars were well healed until we were forced to disturb them in order to remove the threading. Given that Asmodeus has been injecting himself with Gabriel’s grace, it is safe to say that it is diminished, but I will of course leave it to you to determine how badly so as I cannot.”

Ketch may not like Castiel, but he could acknowledge that the other angel was in a far better position to assess the condition of his brother.

Castiel reached out to touch Gabriel, causing Gabriel to flinch. Castiel look hurt.

“Ask,” Ketch suggested. “I too discovered it is too soon to assume that normal contact is acceptable to him at the moment.”

Castiel frowned, clearly upset at causing Gabriel distress, and then nodded.

“…May I touch you, Gabriel? I’d like to heal your injuries if I can.”

Gabriel eyed Castiel wearily, eyes daring back at Ketch.

“I’ll stay here,” Ketch reassured him, even though he knew he was useless against Castiel given that he was unarmed. Even if could get to the angel warding, that would expel Gabriel as well, taking away the main bit of offense he had access too.

Gabriel nodded slowly.

Castiel frowned, not fond that Ketch seemed to bring some manner of comfort to Gabriel.

Ketch didn’t particularly care. He gave his word to Gabriel, he would keep it.

Slowly, Castiel extended a hand to Gabriel and rested it gently on him. The frown deepened as something began to happen. Breathing that seemed ever so slightly labored lightened and bruises faded from sight. For some reason, he’d thought that the healing would be flashier somehow. Maybe the angels saved it for when they felt the need to put on a show.

“Thanks,” Gabriel said as he looked up at his younger brother.

“I can’t heal the psychological damage,” Castiel said mournfully. “Not for a lack of trying before. But if you want to talk about it…”

Gabriel shook his head.

“Honest question, Castiel,” Ketch asked. “Did that work with the Winchesters?”

There was a glare that softened to a rueful smile.

“It did not. I am sorry, Gabriel, I just want to help.”

Gabriel shrugged a little and started picking at his nails.

Castiel deflated. “I sense that me standing here will not help anything. I will be in the library if you need me.”

The pair nodded and Castiel left them.

Ketch returned to scrounging up something for dinner. He opened the refrigerator when something caught his eye. He pulled out a half-eaten berry pie, having heard of the archangel’s legendary sweet tooth.

“Gabriel,” he said, “Would you like a slice?”

Gabriel’s breath caught and then Ketch learned what a blinding smile looked like.

 

 

“This is _amazing_ ,” Gabriel moaned around a mouthful of pie.

The archangel was talking, which was good, so Ketch tried to not raise a skeptical brow at the judgement of the pastry. He knew there was nothing special about the pie, it was just something picked up from the local grocery store, but then anything was amazing to a starving man which he supposed Gabriel was, in a way. He took a sip of his surprisingly decent coffee. If he survived the next few days and was going to be here for the long haul, however, getting tea into the Bunker was a must. It was, in fact, the first thing on his mental shopping list. He paired it with a half-passable sandwich. It did beat MREs at least.

“When you’re up to traveling, I’ll give you the name of this bakeshop back home. The desserts here simply can’t compare.” Not that Ketch was much of a sweets man, but when he was, he preferred European-style desserts. They were, on the whole, less sweet.

Gabriel nodded and took a few more bites of the dessert, not really looking at Ketch, but staring a great deal at his plate.

“So…Asmodeus?” Gabriel finally asked.

Ketch despised talking about himself, and even more so about mistakes made, but he wanted to encourage the discussion.

“Not one of my better moves,” he admitted.

“Then why?”

“He paid the best,” Ketch said.

Gabriel looked at Ketch. Really _looked_ at Ketch. It was hard not to squirm.

“And I might have been upset at the Winchesters. They’d already killed me, you think they could let bygones be bygones and try and track down Lucifer instead. You know, priorities.”

Gabriel _looked_ at Ketch some more.

“Oh don’t give me that!” he said, missing the slight smile on Gabriel’s face as he squirmed. “I’ve only died the once. It’s not like they haven’t dozens of time over combined. And I acquired the spell in a perfectly legitimate trade.”

Gabriel huffed. Ketch wasn’t quite sure if it was amusement or something else.

“Anyway. It was fine, for a while, but it grew increasingly apparent that Asmodeus has zero regard for this planet or the beings that live on it. He seemed far more concerned about…” he tried to find a delicate way to discuss what had happened to Gabriel, but faltered. “then stopping Michael. Oh sure, he made noises about it, but it didn’t seem to be nearly the concern I reckoned it ought to be.”

“How?”

“How what?” Ketch asked. Gabriel didn’t seemed surprised by the news – he figured that the archangel had been held captive long enough to have been kept current on the news, even if indirectly – so he wasn’t sure what was being asked.

“Lucifer? Michael?”

“I am not sure that I should be the one telling this story,” Ketch said. He raised his voice. “Castiel?”

Castiel was there in all but a blink of an eye, making Ketch wonder if he was simply spying on their conversation or just flying inside the bunker.

“What?” Castiel asked, his voice tinged with irritation.

“You were an integral part of getting Lucifer out of his cage and in discovering the alternative world that is threatening this world,” Ketch said acting oblivious to the daggers being glared his way. “You should be the one to tell your brother what happened. I couldn’t possibly do it justice.”

Gabriel _glared_ at Castiel who blanched even more than Ketch had.

Ketch smiled around his sip of coffee.

*

At the end of it all, both Ketch and Gabriel looked thoughtful.

Ketch had no idea of what Gabriel was thinking about and wouldn’t begin to presume to know, but hearing the full story – not just the bits that the Men of Letters had been able to glean through various third party sources – was endlessly fascinating, and he wondered for the five hundredth time why the Winchesters weren’t dead.

“It’s not Dad’s doing,” Gabriel said idly.

Ketch jumped. He forgot that angels could read thoughts.

“He doesn’t care about them _that_ much.” There was a bitterness in Gabriel’s voice. “I don’t think he cares about anything that much.”

He could hear the unspoken “especially not me” in those words. There may not have been much in the way of love within the Men of Letters, but given the relationships that the archangels seemed to enjoy – or not enjoy as the case may be – with God, he didn’t think he was missing out on much.

Gabriel went back to staring at his hands, not talking for several long minutes, even as Castiel tried to engage the archangel in small talk even as he went out of his way to ignore Ketch.

Castiel looked at the crumb-filled plate. “Can I get you another piece?”

Gabriel pushed the plate away and shook his head, his eyes went distant again. The moment was clearly gone.

The tension was mounting in the kitchen.

“Right,” Castiel said. “I will go back to what I was doing. Please call me if you need me.”

Ketch nodded, and a moment after Castiel left, cleaned up the few plates he and Gabriel had dirtied.

When done, he headed towards the door. “I’m going to try and grab some rest,” Ketch said. “It has been a long couple of days.” He’d grabbed an all-too brief cat nap after the shower he’d grabbed earlier but hadn’t seen real sleep in almost 30 hours. He could go longer, of course, but it certainly wasn’t him at his peak.

Gabriel grabbed at his arm.

Ketch froze. He needed sleep, and he wanted to not upset the upset archangel. His mind raced for options. “What if we were to set up a cot in my room?” Ketch offered. “You could stay there and if you needed me, you could wake me up.”

Gabriel considered this and slowly nodded.

Right.

“Castiel?” he called out again.

It took longer this time for Castiel to appear, and when he did, it was clear that indeed, he was eavesdropping.

“I set up a cot for Gabriel. You’ll be staying in the bedroom next to mine. I’ve already moved your belongings.”

Ketch was too tired to argue.

 

 

They left the door to the hallway open that night.

Ketch would have preferred the illusion of privacy, but the build of the bunker meant that once lights were turned off the room was thrown into pitch blackness. Gabriel’s near-immediate whimpers told Ketch that wasn’t the best of ideas.

Opening the door allowed the soft glow of the bunker lights to filter into the room; that seemed to be light enough to comfort the archangel.

Ketch wondered if angels could dream.

*

Angels may not dream; but waking nightmares were not off the table.

Like most in his line of work, Ketch was a light sleeper, the better to spring into action should the need arise. More than once in the night he heard Gabriel’s pitiful moans, and once thought, even some thrashing.

“Gabriel!” Ketch called out when it started up, “It’s okay. You aren’t in Hell. Asmodeus can’t get you.” He used his most level patient voice he could muster, even when he felt said patience begin to slip.

Gabriel would settle for a while before the cycle would begin anew.

After the fourth or fifth time – Ketch wasn’t keeping count – he woke up to the sound of the cot scraping the hard floor, Gabriel seemed to be pushing it level to Ketch’s bed, where before it had rested perpendicular to it.

Ketch looked at Gabriel quizzically.

Gabriel curled up on the cot, head now level near Ketch’s.

Ketch shrugged, and even if he felt Gabriel’s eyes on him as he dozed back off once more, it was impossible to miss one fact:

There were no more disturbances that night.

*

Ketch didn’t do idle small chat, except when assignment demanded it of him. He saw no point in obliging meaningless social niceties that did nothing but eat up time. He was therefore less wondering what to say the next morning as they dressed. He knew how Gabriel had spent his night – quite poorly, for the most of it – and he wasn’t sure Gabriel was ready to open up about it, or if he should even be the one that Gabriel opened up to.

He wasn’t warm, he wasn’t fuzzy, and he only knew how to leave people in a state like Gabriel’s, not take them out of it. He worried that anything that would come out of his lips would sound hollow and false and Gabriel clearly needed more than that.

And yet, there was no tension in the room.

After Ketch finished putting on his tie – an unneeded accessory, yet one that he admitted felt like a bit of his own armor – he looked over Gabriel who seemed to be taking a quiet moment to enjoy the clean jeans and button-down shirt that Castiel had left for him.  Ketch could only assume that it had been a preferred outfit of Gabriel’s from before.

The archangel didn’t look good. Though the host had been well healed by Castiel, it was as if the trauma Gabriel had suffered was manifesting itself through bags under the eyes, a pallor to his skin, and that posture that still screamed of a being trying to make itself small and inconspicuous.

There was one noticeable change from last night, however.

The light in Gabriel’s eyes was ever so slightly brighter.  It was no smile, and most wouldn’t see it, but Ketch could. The tiniest spark of something that Ketch himself would say he lost decades ago if he could admit it.

Hope.

Ketch smiled ever so slightly at the sight.

Gabriel’s eyes darted up and caught Ketches and offered a slight smile of his own.

“Come on then,” Ketch said. “Let’s get some breakfast. Perhaps we’ll have been lucky enough that your brother did some grocery shopping.”

The archangel seemed to perk up at the thought and allowed himself to be lead back into the kitchen.

Indeed, Castiel had gone out for supplies. While the food stores were still decidedly modest, there were unquestionably fuller than it had been before. Ketch was pleased to note that it included a fair amount of greens – the younger brother’s influence to be sure – as well as a wide array of sugary cereals some pastry, no double Castiel trying to find something that Gabriel would enjoy.

Ketch began making himself an egg white omelet as Gabriel studied the selections with the seriousness of a five year being tasked with such a big decision.

Once it was on the table – omelet and toast for Ketch, Fruit Loops and a cinnamon roll for Gabriel, coffee for both, the two ate quietly at the table, the only noise the scraping of silverwear against old china plates.

Finally, Ketch had to ask.

“Feel free to not answer if you aren’t ready but….so, Asmodeus?” he asked, throwing the archangels own question back to him.

 

 

It began with a low rumble, then the trembling of the plates on the table. Only then did he notice Gabriel’s eyes glowing blue.

 _So this is what an angry archangel looks like_ Ketch’s brain helpfully told him.

It was more than a little terrifying given that Gabriel still looked in full control.

“Too soon!” Ketch said hurriedly. “I’m sorry Gabriel.”

“What did you _do_ , Ketch?” Castiel said appearing in the kitchen.

And just like that, the switch flipped back off. That was scary too, if Ketch thought about it.

“Leave him alone.” Gabriel said turning honey eyes back on Castiel. “He hasn’t done anything.”

“I beg to differ,” Castiel began before being abruptly cut off.

“He is the reason that I’m here to listen to you whining. _You_ said yes to Lucifer. You’ve lost the moral high ground, baby brother.”

“I was trying to stop Amara!” he protested.

“Everyone always thinks they’re doing what’s right,” he said airly. “Not everyone releases _Lucifer_ on the world.”

“I’m not going to stand here and take this,” Castiel huffed.

Gabriel and Ketch both ignored him, in fact, Gabriel now seemed to not even notice that Castiel was even in the same room at all.

“I want to go outside,” Gabriel announced. “I want to feel the sun again.”

“We could go for a walk?” Ketch suggested. “The wardings will protect us if we don’t stray too far.”

A nod.

It looked like this round of chatter had concluded.

“Right,” Ketch said. “Well, come along.”

*

There was a small faded footpath that circled the Bunker. At one time it might have been prominent, but now it was a was barely noticeable, time and rains having helped fill the path back in. That didn’t matter, however, its true purpose – a marking of the edge of the wards – was still readily served by those who knew what it meant.

Like Ketch.

He watched as Gabriel didn’t watch where he was walking. Instead, he just seemed to be soaking up the sun, not unlike a cat. He half wondered if they found a suitable stump if Gabriel would want to stop.

It didn’t take long to find out that he did.

They sat out there, just like that, for an hour, maybe more. Ketch didn’t check his watch. It didn’t seem right to. There was something about this moment that he just knew he should be in it, even if that moment was a celebration of the ability to do nothing but bask in the warmth of the sun.

And it _was_ a celebration. Ketch could see it in the way that Gabriel looked more relaxed.

“It is beautiful out, isn’t it?” Ketch offered.

“I’ve missed the warmth.” Gabriel replied. “He made a cell for me near the Cage because. The cannon fodder wasn’t allowed down there and Crowley had enough deterrents to keep them away.  We couldn’t see each other, but we could hear each other’s screams. I only knew because Asmodeus took great delight in rubbing in the fact that with Raphael dead and the other three of us trapped here in Hell that Heaven was floundering to keep it together. He would keep me up to date on news from Heaven. I generally tried to tune it out, because I didn’t want to let him get to me, but I knew he wasn’t lying about my brothers.” He drifted off. “Do you have any siblings?”

“I was an only child,” Ketch said. “My parents both worked for the Men of Letters. They considered my birth as the fulfillment of an obligation to the organization.”

“Siblings are a pain in the ass,” Gabriel opined. “Always making noise. Always causing fights. Always breaking your toys.”

“You miss them?” Ketch guessed.

“They were pains in the asses like you wouldn’t believe.” Gabriel agreed. “But they were my pains in the asses.”

“Would you help put Lucifer back in the cage?” Ketch asked.

“No,” Gabriel said. His voice was emphatic, but firm. “No, no, _no._ ”

“But you helped put him there before.”

“I _can’t_.” Gabriel insisted.

Ketch knew he was pushing too hard and let off.

“Are you ready to go back?” he asked.

Gabriel nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“All right then.”

*

Ketch let them back inside, where Castiel was waiting for them.

“I was wondering where you had gotten off to,” he said eying Gabriel, frowning, then giving Ketch a disdainful look. “You’ve been gone for almost two hours.”

Ketch didn’t show his surprise. “We weren’t far,” Ketch said.

“Regardless. Sam and Dean are back. They are asking to see Gabriel; Jack wants to meet his uncle.”

“That’s lovely.” Ketch said. “And I want to be King.” He looked at Gabriel. “Are you up for it?”

“Who is Jack?” Gabriel asked not looking at Castiel.

“Lucifer’s son,” Ketch said carefully. “Like we discussed yesterday.”

Gabriel frowned and shook slightly. “Nephilim are bad.”

“Jack is not back,” Castiel said. “He has not even met his father.”

Gabriel shook more. “No.”

“But – “ Castiel said.

Ketch sighed. “By God Castiel. He needs a break. It has barely been twenty-four hours. When he is more lucid, he will be in a better place to Jack. For now, I’m taking him back to his room to decompress.”

Castiel opened his mouth to protest, but shut it when he saw Gabriel inch towards Ketch.

“Fine,” he said. “Why do I have to be the one to tell Sam and Dean?” he asked plaintively, knowing they would not like this answer.

Ketch just smirked as they walked past.

 

 

Some twenty minutes later, Ketch emerged from the room he was sharing with Gabriel, walkie-talkie in hand.

“He is resting comfortably,” Ketch said as he set the walkie on the table in the war room. Castiel was no where to be found. Out taking a break from babysitting no doubt, not that ketch minded.

“What’s that for?” It was asked by a young man that could only be Jack.

“Jack, I presume?” Ketch asked.

“Yes,” He said. “And you must be Mr. Ketch,” he replied politely.

He had heard no animated conversations since retreating to the room; like before the door had been left open so it wasn’t from any soundproofing provided by the bunker. He wondered if that meant that they’d managed to get Jack to come back, but not Mary. Before he could ask, however, he knew he’d have to satisfy the boy’s curiosity as he saw it in Samuel’s eyes as well.

“The move to Asmodeus’ throne room was recent. Prior to that, the main companionship that Gabriel had was the screams coming from his brother’s Cage. To spell it out for you: he fears being left alone again. This gives him reassurance that that is not the case with a simple press of the button.”

Eyes went down around the room. Sam looked hurt for Gabriel, Jack looked concerned as he tried to process what it meant, and Dean simply looked angry. Ketch wondered if that was Dean’s default emotional response. It probably was.

“What?!” Dean sounded incredulous. “Are you serious? How did Crowley not know that Gabriel was right under his nose?”

“If I had to wager a guess, he never went down there himself and as you are both quite aware, Hell is quite spacious. It wouldn’t have been that hard to create a small cell that was off the proverbial radar.”

Dean looked unhappy at that answer, but there was no way to interrogate Crowley. Personally, Ketch believed that he wouldn’t have stood for it. The archangel would have been too good a bargaining chip to let languish in the depths.

“Right,” Dean said. “Did you learn anything else?”

“He is in no shape to, and furthermore, has no current desire to put Lucifer back in the Cage.”

“Why not?” Sam asked.

Ketch sighed. What was he? A bloody Archangel whisperer?

“He did not give me any specifics as he was too busy regressing to that nearly mute state that you keep forcing him back into, but I would wager that all the time knowing that his brothers were alive and in pain did a number on him. Even if he remembers why he helped you previously, I’m not even sure that would be enough to convince him. Before Lucifer was trying to end the world and now he is not. He is a menace to be sure, but the threat is not the same.”

“Fuck,” Dean swore. “Wonderful. Fantastic.” Clearly Dean had been planning on Gabriel’s help for the upcoming fights. He supposed he couldn’t blame him. He knew the brothers had more Heavenly help in the last few years than basically any other man that had ever walked the earth.

Before Dean could begin ranting and risked waking up Gabriel, Ketch decided to try and cut him off at the pass. “Where is your mother?”

“She….chose not to return,” Sam said with a thick swallow. “She has become a part of the Resistance against Michael and she wanted to continue to fight.”

Ketch blinked. That was not something he would have expected. Or maybe he should have. Mary was a fighter and he knew full well that she never truly felt settled with the men that were her sons. She also had a noble heart. Knowing she was helping others would have decidedly appealed to her.

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“If I had had more time, I know I could have gotten her to come back,” Dean said shoving a chair aside angrily, the noise loud and jarring as it scraped the floor.

Had there not been a nervy archangel trying to rest not too far away, he’d been tempted to ask if that was truly so wise when she’d made her intentions quite clear – and that she was as stubborn as they were once they’d set their minds to something.

“Please, Dean,” Ketch said. He hated saying please to Dean. “Do try and keep it down. Gabriel is trying to rest.”

“Since when do you care about Gabriel?” Dean demanded to know. “You only brought him back to get into our good graces.”

Ketch could feel Sam and Jack’s eyes settle on him as well. Only Dean’s gaze held anger. The others were tinged with curiosity.

“So I did,” Ketch admitted, not bothering to hide from a truth that he himself had divulged. “As unworthy as I may be, Gabriel is finding comfort in my presence and is that not for the good of all that he is comfortable to help encourage his healing?” He paused, then added. “And if I must confess, I am finding comfort in presence as well. I have no doubt he knows what I am and what I have done, and he has not judged me for it. That in itself is worth me continuing to aid him.”

They hadn’t spoken much about Ketch’s past, but with some of the looks that Gabriel had given him, Ketch felt confident in saying that the archangel somehow knew.

“Maybe I could help heal him?” Jack asked. “I brought Castiel back from the dead,” he said. “And Gabriel is still alive. It must be easier.”

“That is very generous of you Jack,” Ketch said. The Nephilim had this innocence about him that was both refreshing and a bit unnerving. A corruption of a being with his power could cause catastrophic damage very careful if they were unlucky. “But his body is now fine. It is his mind that needs time and that is not something that can just be willed into healthiness.

Jack looked up at Sam for confirmation.

“What Ketch said,” Sam said. “You know how scared you were when you were first born? When I found you in the corner?”

Jack nodded. “I was cold, and I was alone and I didn’t know who you were. I thought you were going to hurt me,” he said slowly.

“Take that feeling and multiply by a thousand,” Sam suggested gently. “That is what Gabriel is feeling right now.

Jack shuddered. “That is terrible. How can one being feel so much pain?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“It breaks you,” Sam said. “We are not meant to feel such pain.”

Jack frowned.

The walkie-talkie chirped to life.

“Ketch?” they all heard come over the radio. This Gabriel sounded more confident than before.

“I’m here Gabriel,” Ketch reassured him. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” Gabriel said. “But I’m ready. I want to meet Jack. But only you and Jack. Sam and Dean can wait in the hallway.”

Ketch gave the brothers a look that brokered no arguing. Sam frowned, and Dean gave a reluctant nod.

“Very well,” Ketch replied. “We’ll be there shortly.” He looked at Jack. “Come along. Time for you to meet your Uncle.”

 

 

“Um, hello?” Jack said as he hesitantly stepped into the room, Ketch following close behind, but staying near the door as much to keep the Winchesters out of the room as to give the pair as a sense of privacy that they didn’t actually have.

“So you’re Lucifer’s kid?” Gabriel asked. “Are you sure?” He looked at Ketch. “Doesn’t he kind of look like Castiel?”

“Now that you mention it,” Ketch agreed.

Jack looked like a deer in headlights.

“Relax. I’m pretty sure Castiel doesn’t even understand how Nephilim are made.”

“He does too!” Dean called out.

“I do what?” Castiel asked as he reappeared for wherever he’d been.

“Understand how Nephilim are made,” Dean said.

“Yes, I do,” Castiel agreed. “But why is this relevant to this particular conversation.”

The door slammed shut, causing Ketch to jump.

“Hey!” Dean’s protest was muffled by the door.

“I said you can stand in the hall, I didn’t promise you could eavesdrop!” Gabriel called back. “You guys are distracting!”

Ketch wasn’t quite sure what to make of this exchange. He looked at Jack who seemed to be equally bewildered.

“Are you all right?” Ketch asked.

“I’m fine….I guess I did not expect to see Gabriel bickering with Sam and Dean.”

“This isn’t bickering. I don’t bicker!”

Just then alarms began blaring through the bunker, the lights shutting off, emergency lighting turning on as it went into a defensive mode.

The door went flying open.

“Those are the demon wards,” Sam said.

“Asmodeus,” Ketch guessed, face looking grim as he reached for his gun. He glanced at Gabriel who was busy pressing himself against the wall, trying to look make himself small.

“Jack, protect Gabriel.” Dean ordered. As Jack nodded, Dean hesitated for a second, then handed the archangel blade to Ketch. “Do as Jack says and protect him. I swear if anything happens to Gabriel and Asmodeus doesn’t kill you, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Yes, yes,” Ketch said. “Do survive so you can be disappointed when you can’t follow through on that threat.”

“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel urged. “Let’s go.”

Dean nodded and the trio took off. Ketch shut the door behind them. Gabriel was in no position to move, but at least having to knock the door in could give them a half-second warning. It was better than no warning at all.

“You’ve got this?” Ketch asked Jack.

Jack nodded, eyes glowing gold as he prepared himself. “I know how to use my powers now. I fought off dozens of Michael’s men on the other size. They couldn’t even get close!”

The whole thing would have been completely terrifying had the look on his face held the same malice he imagined would have appeared on Lucifer’s face. As it was, the notion that Jack could kill angels at a distance with a mere thought was still _mostly_ terrifying.

“Right,” Ketch said as he took up a position in front of Gabriel.

“Stay with us, Gabriel,” Ketch said. “We will not let him hurt you again. I swear it.”

He did not give his word lightly. If it took his death to ruin Asmodeus’ day, he could take comfort in that.

There were sounds of battle from other parts of the bunker, there were multiple cries, none of them familiar. Clearly, Asmodeus had brought help, the kind of help that wasn’t necessarily a threat in of itself to Hunters as seasoned as the Winchesters, but certainly enough to be a distraction.

“He’s getting close,” Jack announced. “I can hear him.”

The door to the room slammed open.

“Mah, mah, mah,” Asmodeus said as he strolled into the room. “Buy one get two free! What an _absolute_ bargain!” He flicked his wrist and sent Ketch flying into the wall behind the beds.

Ketch felt his vision gray out as the blade dropped to the floor. Gabriel

“Once I get my two other pets situated, I’ll kill you slowly boy for taking what is mine. And then when I have stripped you to a soul, I will take great pleasure in making these two listen to your screams.

Gabriel’s head shot up.

The demon would have noticed the archangel’s glowing blue if in that second he wasn’t rendered to a pile of dust.

The alarms died almost as quickly as they had activated.

Jack tilted his head as he studied the remains of the demon. “He talked too much.”

Ketch coughed up blood. He was pretty sure a rib had punctured a lung and he could feel the blood pouring out of his head. “Tell Dean,” Ketch coughed so more. “he can’t.” This time the blood spilled from his mouth. “Kill me.”

Ketch’s world went black.

 

 

The first thing that struck Ketch as he woke up is that, well, _he woke up_.

The second thing that struck Ketch as he woke up is that nothing hurt, not even old lingering injuries that had never quite healed up properly.

“Sleeping beauty,” Gabriel said as he set a copy of _Busty Asian Beauties_ aside. “I was starting to think you’d never wake up.”

“Nor did I. How long was I out?”

“Almost a day. The extent of your injuries made Jack sad, by the way. Dean grumbled about your blood staining the lovely tile wiles.

“So he does care,” Ketch joked dryly. He wrinkled his nose at his shirt. As he peeled it off, he asked, “Are you okay?”

Gabriel’s façade of normalcy broke, if only for a few seconds. “I’m alive. Asmodeus isn’t.” He shrugged. “It’s a great day right?”

“Indeed. Worthy of a drink, at least,” Ketch said. “Not that I’d drink the swill they keep here.”

“Then let’s bail this joint,” Gabriel suggested. “I know a great little modern-day speakeasy in New York.”

Ketch paused. “You aren’t planning on staying to fight Michael.”

Gabriel didn’t answer, which was answer enough.

“So why did you stay?”

Gabe looked away, as if giving Ketch modesty as Ketch pulled out a new shirt to put on.

“I didn’t give a Reaper a side-eye just to see you suicide by Winchester.”

Ketch paused. “Really?”

“Really. She barely continued her bitch face.” Gabriel sighed. “Look. You basically died with the intent to protect me, even though you stood nothing to gain nothing from it. I’ve been Loki long enough to appreciate that kind of devotion. And like I said, you certainly aren’t going to get any thanks from the Winchesters.”

“But the Earth – “

“Will be fine, or you’ll be dead anyway. The boys broke it, they can fix it. Besides, they’ve got the spawn of Satan helping them. Kid’s stronger than I ever was.”

Gabriel’s voice was a mix of sadness and bitterness. He wondered how weakened Gabriel had become. That reminded Ketch. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the extra vial of Grace that Asmodeus had stashed. “Here. I kept this from the boys.”

Gabriel seemed genuinely surprised, but none the less pleased to see it. “I thought you were trying to buy their favor.”

“I was,” Ketch said. “But you never show all your cards up front and you have a point. I could have died saving Mary and they probably would have just stepped over my corpse to get to her. Rescuing you, regardless of my original motivation has to count for something right?”

Gabriel held up his grace reverently. “And this counts for a lot more.” He took off the cap and swallowed greedily. His already healed body began to glow with new health before his eyes shown a piercing blue. Ketch is pretty sure he gasped when he saw the shadows of Gabriel’s wings lay on the wall.

“That was like the best damn pixie stick _ever_.” Gabriel said satisfied before looking at Ketch. “You can stop gaping. If you’re going to worship, I prefer genuflecting.”

“I’m a wee bit out of practice,” Ketch joked weakly as he finished packing his bag, a little awestruck. Between Jack’s power and now Gabriel’s power and the whole almost dying bit he was feeling incredibly mortal at the moment. “How about I buy you the first round instead?”

“Deal,” Gabriel said as he opened the door and let Ketch lead the way.

*

“Moving on so soon?” Dean asked, flat tone of his voice belaying the that he was more than happy to see Ketch go.

“Quite,” Ketch said.  “We’re stepping out to New York for a drink.” It only then occurred to him how ridiculous that statement really was.

“New York,” Sam said. “For a drink.” Sam asked in disbelief.

“I know you aren’t hard-of-hearing Sammo, New York. This place is _great_. Some get all dressed up, they have a live jazz band, even some questionable bathtub hooch if you’re living on the edge. Can’t get any more authentic without time travel,” Gabriel said.

“But what about Michael?” Dean demanded.

“What about Michael?” Gabriel aped. “You got Lucifer Junior. You’ll be fiiine,” Gabriel dismissed Dean’s concerns.

“I am right here,” Jack said slightly peeved, but distracted. “You feel different,” he added.

“I’m healed,” the archangel clarified.

“But how?” Jack asked. “Castiel said the only way for an angel to recover from the loss of Grace is to consume their Grace.”

“Of which I still had a vial,” Ketch said. “And he consumed.”

“What?!” Dean said glaring at Ketch.

“What?” Ketch said. “I was optimistic when I came to you for help, not naïve. There is a difference.”

“And that’s why I like him. Daylight’s a burning and we’ve a drink or five to get through.”

“Fine. Whatever,” Dean groused. “Have fun.”

“Dean?” Gabriel asked.

“What?” Dean snapped.

“My archangel blade,” Gabriel said hand out expectantly.

With a reluctant sigh, Dean relinquished the blade.

“Pleasure doing business with you. Once you fix the world, _please_ stop breaking it. We’ve just about run out the warranty on the place.”

Ketch found himself pulled into the ether before Dean could reply.


	2. Slice of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys go back to Gabe's place in upstate New York for a few days to recover from their time with Asmodeus

When Ketch found himself on solid ground again, he realized two things: his bag was gone and that he was now dressed in a sharp double-breasted tweed suit while Gabriel’s suit was a little more casual.

“Handy,” Ketch said as he took in his new surroundings. “Where is my gear?”

Gabriel waved a dismissive hand. “It’s at my place. It’s fine.”

Ketch nodded. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” The alleyway was too comparatively clean for its own good. The ground wasn’t littered with cigarette butts or gum wrappers or any signs that people would congregate in the area.

“Totally,” Gabriel said as he knocked on a door. They waited for a moment, but there was no response.

“You guys looking to see a man about the dog?” a clean-cut man asked approaching him.

“Yeah,” Gabriel said eyeing him wearily.

“You musn’t be local. It shut down five years ago,” the guy said mournfully.

“I’ve been away.” Gabriel was frowning, clearly not liking the reminder of how long he’d been gone.

“What happened?” Ketch asked.

“A girl overdosed on the hooch and died. Worst still, she was underage to boot. It was quite the scandal. The owner went to jail for a bit and came out to a lawsuit that took him for all he was worth.

“Unfortunate.”

“Seriously. Anyway. Some of the bartenders who didn’t get caught in the crossfire opened up a place a few blocks to the east. Even though this one is completely aboveboard, they managed to mostly capture the old vibe. I’m going that way, I can take you there if you like.”

“Gabriel?” Ketch offered. “Are you up for it?”

“You owe me the first round,” Gabriel insisted.

“So I do,” Ketch agreed. “Lead the way.”

“Mark,” their guide offered.

“Ketch,” he offered.

“So what brings you out this way?” Mark asked Ketch as Gabriel followed behind.

“A bit of a celebration,” he replied. “I’m a freelancer who just got out from under a real demon of a contract.”

Gabriel snorted.

“I feel you man. The gig economy is tough, ain’t it?”

“The worst,” Ketch replied drily, even if he wasn’t quite sure what the gig economy was. “I’m considering a field change.”

“Hang in there. There are far more douchebags out there than the good ones but find one a good one and you are _set_.”

“All right,” Mark said. “Here we are,” he said nodding at a non-descript door. “Have one for me, would you?” He looked wistful. “Maybe I’ll catch up with you later sometime.”

“That would be fun,” Ketch said politely as the parted with a polite wave.

“Look at you,” Gabriel said as they entered the darkened room. “Playing all nice with the common folk. I didn’t you stuffy Men of Letters types had it in you.”

“It’s just that,” Ketch said blandly, his eyes belying a sense of mirth. “I never did learn to not play with my food.”

“Oooh, a vampire in the ranks. How _scandalous_ ,” Gabriel said, eyebrows wagging.

“It would be quite the cause celebre wouldn’t it? Imagine, a vampire infiltrating the Men of Letters without setting off a single ward. Dozens would lose have to be killed for their failures, of course, and then the ones that were left would fight for the privilege of being the ones to figure out how they did it.”

“Good evening, sirs,” a waitress in a sleek little vintage cocktail dress approached their table. “What can I get for you tonight?”

The music was loud enough to be heard, but soft enough that no yelling had to occur to place their order. Ketch appreciated places that understood that balance.

“We’ll both have one of whatever your specialty is,” Ketch said.

“Two Last Words it is,” she jotted in her notebook. “I’ll have those right up for you.”

“I didn’t take you for a cocktail man,” Gabriel said.

“When it Rome, right?” Ketch said.

“That’s the spirit!” the archangel said. “You really didn’t want to drink bath tub gin straight. That  stuff would make _me_ drunk in only a few pints, max.”

Ketch laughed as the waitress returned with their drinks.

“The Last Word for you,” she said as she handed Ketch his drink. “And the Last Word for you,” she said setting Gabriel’s drink down. “Enjoy, gentlemen.”

Ketch picked up his glass in a toast.

“To a world without Asmodeous.”

“Amen.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

One Last Word turned into two, turned into an old fashioned, turned into an entire bottle of whiskey. He’d tried saying no, of course, but Gabriel was so insistent and he was matching drink for drink so it was only polite.

He just hadn’t quite aware _enough_ of just how good an archangel’s constitution was compared to a human’s.

Ketch hadn’t allowed himself to get drunk since the day he celebrated his graduation from Kendrick’s by assassinating a fellow student destined for the research department that had gotten caught plagiarizing his thesis. It hadn’t been safe to be so unaware then and it probably wasn’t all that safe now, but after almost dying once and basically dying a second time in a 36 hour span, he found himself not quite caring any longer.

“All right,” Gabriel said as he helped Ketch to his feet. “Time to get you home before you stab someone that pisses you off.”

“I wouldn’t!” Ketch slurred.

“You just tried.” Gabriel said. “You would have succeeded to had I not turned your knife into a straw.”

Ketch looked down. There indeed was a straw where he normally carried a blade.

“Oh.”

“Luckily for the two of us the other guy is as drunk as you are so no one noticed.”

Gabriel helped weave Ketch through the dwindling crowd with a surprising amount of ease.

“It’s called sobriety,” Gabe joked as they reached fresh air.

Ketch took a moment to gather himself in the cool breeze that would quickly turn to a chill before long.

“Where is home?” Ketch finally thought to ask.

The world spun, and not from dizziness.

“Here,” Gabriel said.

A fine layer of dust covered a place that could best be described as…homey. The furniture was well broken in, the books that lined the walls were clearly well-loved, and a far wall was lined with all kinds of odds and ends that made no cohesive sense, but clearly held meaning for the archangel.

“Offerings,” Gabriel said as Ketch studied the wall for longer than perhaps polite. “From favorite followers.” He picked up a whittled wooden horse with a smile on his face before setting it back in its place.

“Lovely,” Ketch said as he looked away as knowing what they were made them too intimate for him to look at. “I can help you pick up tomorrow, if you’d like?” he offered as he stifled a yawn. It seemed like a fair trade for a room for the night.

“I’d like that,” Gabriel said. “The place needs to be aired out. But first, you need rest. There’s a bathroom over there.” Suddenly, Ketch’s bag appeared in his hand. “Here you go. Bear with me a moment, I need to go make a guest room.”

Ketch blinked, but figured he just misheard. With a shrug, he went to change.

When he came back out, he paused. There was a door in the hallway he would have sworn wasn’t there before. He must be more drunk than he thought.

“Sorry about that, Gabriel said. “Like I said, I need to make the guest room. Let me know if I forgot anything?”

Ketch opened the door to reveal a room that felt cozy in its own right. A good size bed dominated the room, but there was an armoire to hold his clothing and a comfy-looking armchair in the corner that served as a makeshift reading nook thanks to the small table and lamp sitting there.

“This looks wonderful,” he said honestly. The room, like the house as a whole, just felt inviting and safe.

Gabriel looked pleased. “Then I’m going to call it a night. If you need anything, just holler.”

“The same,” Ketch replied as Gabriel retreated to his own room.

When Gabriel didn’t shut his door that night, Ketch followed suit.

The peace lasted through the night.

*

Ketch woke to the smells of something delicious wafting through home. It took his mind a minute to process what exactly that smell was.

<i>Full breakfast?!</i> his mind asked as his stomach growled, demanding the first tempting meal in who knows how long. Somehow he wasn’t hungover, but he wasn’t in the mood to question it. Not when real food was available to him.

Ketch felt good, great even. It was the first full nights rest he’d gotten in ages. He hadn’t had to sleep with one eye open, and for once his dreams weren’t plagued with nightmares or regrets. There had to be some kind of magic protecting the house and he was thankful for it.

He grabbed his duffle and opened the armoire to set away the few things that weren’t equipment and that he hadn’t left in the bathroom only to find it mostly full of casual clothes that just happened to be his exact size. In one way, he was thankful: his duffle contained the bare essentials: some undershirts and boxers, socks, the all black clothing he favorited for his dirtier work. There was nothing casual to be had because it would be wasteful. On the other hand, Gabriel’s generosity was almost overwhelming; he’d have to do what he could to pay the archangel back.

Throwing on a Henley and a pair of blue jeans – not entirely his look, but definitely more appropriate than a suit and tie, he let his nose lead him back to the kitchen. He noticed that multiple windows had already been opened allowing the cool breeze to waft through the house and clean the air of the mustiness that years of neglect had caused.

“Oh good!” Gabriel said. “You found the clothing I left for you!”

“You needn’t have bothered,” Ketch said. “I could have managed.”

“Nope,” Gabriel said. “This is a no suit zone, and that’s final.”

Ketch backed off. “Fair enough. Whatever you’re making though smells absolutely amazing, though.”

“I was in the mood for comfort food, and I figured you might be too. Sit, sit. There’s some tea ready too. I hopped over to the UK and picked up some Yorkshire’s. There’s milk and sugar for you too. Sit, sit.”

It was hard to argue with that, and within moments a plate laden full of a fried egg, bacon and bangers appeared before him. Gabriel set down a basket with some hot scones and clotted cream in a ramekin between them. A pot of raspberry jam already sat on the table.

“I think I’m in love,” Ketch joked. “I can’t remember the last time I had a good English breakfast.” He ignored the criminal amount of sugar Gabriel was adding to his own tea. “No one here does it right.”

“If you want to do it right, do it yourself,” Gabriel agreed.

They ate in companionable silence, the only sounds the chirping of the birds outside.

“Do you mind if I ask where we are?”

His memory of arriving last night was a little fuzzy, aside from the fact that he felt like he’d be allowed in to someplace special.

“Upstate New York,” Gabriel said generally. “But someplace inaccessible to those whom I haven’t invited.”

Ketch simply nodded.

“How long have you owned this place?”

Gabriel shrugged. “A few centuries? Since the Dutch came over anyway. Part of the reason that this place hasn’t been overdeveloped is because I take steps to make sure that it remains untouched.”

“We all deserve our own sanctuaries.” Ketch agreed as he helped himself to a scone. There was a pot of raspberry jam next to it. This really was a bit of Heaven on earth.

“You got one of those?” Gabriel asked.

“I keep an apartment in London,” he answered. “But I never really had a chance to spend much time in it before I died the first time and now it probably wouldn’t be the best place to return to. Disposing of it and picking up something else would wise but it’s on an endless list of things I should do but never have the time for.”

Gabriel sipped his tea. “Why can’t you go back?”

“The same reason you’re laying low. There are people out there that don’t need to be aware that I am back. It would disrupt what fragile quiet I have in my world.”

“So you were serious when you told the hipster you were thinking about a career change?”

“Yes? No? I don’t know,” Ketch admitted. “I still believe in the value of my work, but to hunt solo is suicidal which I am not. I could still freelance, but the types that would acquire my services are not people I have a long-term desire to work with. I have plenty of wealth squirreled away but would not find fulfillment in living the life of the idle rich. It is a waste of years of hard-earned skills and does nothing to help make amend for past misdeeds. Above all else, it seems foolish to sit on my heels when I know that the world is forever on the brink of being wiped out by someone or some _thing_.”

“Crossroads suck, don’t they?”

“Terribly,” Ketch agreed.

“Stay here for a few days,” Gabriel suggested. “Clear your thoughts. The world will still be there when we re-emerge. Besides, you did agree to help clean.”

“So I did,” Ketch said amiably. “Where do we start?”

* * *

 

Ketch found cleaning to be a time of contemplation – he cleaned up the most after he’d just completed the mission. It gave him time to ruminate on what had right, and what he could have done better on. When the final body was disposed of and last bit of evidence destroyed, he could tuck away any stray emotions that the exercise might have stirred up away into the depths of his subconscious and move onwards.

He suspected Gabriel was using it as a diversion. After all, Ketch mused as he began dusting the English classics section of Gabriel’s library – all first editions he noted – a being powerful enough to add on a whole extra bedroom complete with furnishings in the time it took Ketch to brush his teeth didn’t _really_ need to clean things by hand. He just wanted to. Or needed to.

Ketch could relate and was happy to help distract the angel.

“This is quite the book collection you’ve got here.”

Gabriel looked up from where he was carefully individually dusting his offerings. “Thanks,” the archangel said before setting down his rag to study the shelves with Ketch.

Next to the English classics and French farces and various scientific treatises of the 19th century were multiple shelves of vintage erotica. Prose, poetry, and books that contained more engravings than texts when he pulled one out to study it seemed to be here.

“Like it, huh?” Gabriel said with a smile on his face as he walked over and pulled out the first text on the shelf. “The _Satyricon_ , a Roman novel from the 1st century A.D. and the earliest known erotic novel in the west,” Gabriel. “It’s so rare that no copy made it to modern time intact.”

“Then how did you get your hands on it?”

“I went back in time, duh,” Gabriel said affectionally. “I want to say I picked this up in like 68 A.D. I think? Went to an orgy first. It was a hell of a lot of fun if you didn’t mind the smell. Modern hygiene practices are definitely a step forward for the modern orgy, as are today’s sex toys,” the archangel said sagely.

Ketch had heard of the archangel’s proclivity for hedonism but it was still kind of weird to hear it firsthand.

“Oh!” Gabriel said as he pulled another text off the shelf. “And this one? It was written by a guy who became a _Pope_. It actually got even more popular after his election.”

“You’re serious?” Ketch said. “I didn’t know the Church used to be fun.”

“Those were the days, “ Gabriel said fondly. “Not exactly _religious_ , but they knew how to party.” The archangel replaced the Italian text and pulled another off the shelf to show Ketch an engraving of a surprisingly intricately sex act that actually looked anatomically accurate.

“Not too shabby, eh?”

“Most impressive,” Ketch said founding that he meant it. “You genuinely appreciate human sexuality, don’t you?”

“I would think that someone who was interested solely in instant gratification would go to such extreme lengths to procure this kind of material.” It was impossible to miss that all the texts were in their original tongue – from Latin and medieval varieties of English and French and Italian to the modern vernacular.

 “It’s one of the cooler things about you guys. Sure, plenty of animals engage in casual sex – this one zoo caught two male bears giving each other head Search The Web it sometime – but no one has made it so much an art in the way that humans have.” Gabriel gave a casual shrug. “Some of my brothers like stuffy statues, I prefer appreciating the softer side of things.”

“Ah, an art form I’ve too rarely gotten to indulge in,” Ketch murmured with regret.

Gabriel paused. “You? With your good looks and an accent that’s sure to make the American ladies panties drop? That’s just _sad_ ,” he sounded mournful.

“I was busy!” Ketch protested. “Diversions, however beautiful, are dangerous.”

Gabriel just shook his head. “That academy of yours churned out monks, didn’t they?”

“Not really,” he said. “They just emphasized a time and place for everything - including sex. Getting caught with your not-so-proverbial pants down only ended in extreme embarrassment for the poor soul, followed by enough punishment that ensured you didn’t have time to seek any more out for several months at least if you’re lucky.”

“And if you weren’t?”

“My graduation assignment was stealthily eliminating a classmate destined for the research branch whose grades were barely passable that decided he wanted to spend more time fucking a girl from Year 11 than devoting the time to creating an original thesis.”

Gabriel whistled. “Wow that got dark fast.”

Ketch snorted. “The story of my life.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So…that escalated quickly,” Gabriel repeated as he went to wash his hands. “How about we break for lunch?”

“Lunch sounds excellent,” Ketch agreed. “What were you thinking?”

“Why don’t we go into town? We can find something to eat, go to the little market there grab some staples…”

Take a look around, let Gabriel know how much things had or hadn’t changed during his forced absence. “Sounds excellent,” Ketch said as he gathered up the cleaning tools and deposited the bucket back in its place under the sink. “You could probably use a new can of Pledge too. It was feeling rather light.”

Gabriel wrinkled his nose and rummaged around one of the drawers for a pad and a well-used pencil, worn with dents caused by finger nails grabbing it tight. “I should replace the rest of that stuff too. I’m kinda amazed that more cans haven’t rotted out with corrosion,” he said thoughtfully as he added a few other cleaning products to the list.

There was something kind of charming about Gabriel making an actual grocery list with plans to buy from a grocery store. It was such a human gesture from such a powerful being.

“I know we basically need everything refrigerated. I replaced the fridge this morning. Toxic doesn’t even begin to describe it.” Gabriel began scribbling on the paper. “Milk, eggs, some kind of leafy greens, whatever looks good, butter – don’t trust a household that doesn’t keep real butter in it, potatoes. Flour. Sugar. What else?”

“Why don’t we just see what catches the eye?” Ketch offered. “We don’t have to buy the whole store in one trip.”

“But the look on the cashier’s face when you try!”

“Do you have a car that you can fit the store into?” Ketch countered reasonably.

“You just _have_ to bring logic into this, don’t you?” Gabriel pouted. “Fiiine. We’ll do it your way.”

“Do you even have a car?” Ketch asked again more thoughtfully. He hadn’t hated traveling by angel, but it didn’t seem like the most discreet method of transportation when he and multiple bags of groceries had to tag along too.

“No?” Gabriel answered. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, they can be awesome, but I always used to bounce from place to place. They just seemed like more of a hassle than they were worth.”

“Getting stuck in traffic or traveling somewhere in the blink of an eye. I can’t believe you’d pass on the opportunity to sit in traffic,” he joked.

“I know, right? Honking your horn. Watching the lady next you applying her make-up, or the guy in front of you yelling into his phone instead of hitting the gas when the light turns green. What _am_ I thinking?”

“It’s one reason I always preferred motorcycles,” he said wistfully. He hoped it was still where he had left it.

“So I’m guessing that the sedan we hauled out of the gateway to Hell in wasn’t your normal ride?”

“Hardly. I’m still trying to hide out from my previous employers and my love of my motorbike is pretty well known. If they’re going to be looking for me, they’ll be looking for my bike so I try to use alternative transport when I’m in an area where I might run into someone who knows me by chance.”

“Paranoid much?”

“Not if they are out to get you.”

“But you’re British. And you are stateside.”

“And I’m pretty sure the Winchesters and their friends killed any that were over here, but I have a lot of friends of friends, many of whom aren’t exactly friendly if you get my drift.”

“Well that’s a shitty way to live a life,” Gabriel opined.

“But at least I still have a life to live,” Ketch rebutted. “Which is more than they can claim. And, ideally, if I can strike a new deal with Rowena when I find her, I’ll have a fresh insurance policy to ensure that I can continue to do so and take care of those loose threads.”

“And then you’ll retire?” Gabriel asked.

“I suppose,” Ketch said. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.” He thought he saw a flash of pity in Gabriel’s eyes.

“But first things first,” Gabriel said. “Let’s satisfy that base human need first: Lunch. I’ll just pop us in somewhere we can’t be seen. We can grab a ride on the way back.”

“Excellent.” He stood up a little straighter. “Lead the way. I’m famished.”

 

* * *

 

The alleyway that Gabriel dropped them off in led out onto a perfectly picturesque street – so perfect that it spoke of an obnoxious planning committee, clearly designed to appeal to the city elite that would flood the streets in another month as they sought to escape the worst of the summer if the sleek and flashy cars filling the parking spots had anything to say.

The weather was perfect to stroll in, and the pair took their time meandering the streets.

Gabriel was pleased to find that Time had let the town more or less unscathed. Most of his favorite stores had been left intact – they’d already made plans to go visit the used bookstore after lunch – and new favorites were identified.

“Raw cookie dough?” Ketch asked allowed as they looked through the window of a shop that offered handmade gelatos and cookie dough designed to be alone or atop of ice cream. “Why would anyone sell raw cookie dough? Isn’t the point of buying it to buy it already baked into cookies?”

“No,” Gabriel said. “No, no, no,” he said as he shook his head. “Please tell me that you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”

Ketch blinked. “What?”

“You’ve never snacked on cookie dough before?”

“No?” Ketch replied.

Gabriel gasped. “First you tell me you don’t have sex that often, and _now_ you’re telling me that you’ve never eaten cookie dough?! And I thought _I’ve_ been deprived these last few years. We _are_ coming back here after lunch.” His tone brokered no argument.

Ketch raised his hands in surrender. “I don’t pretend to understand, but I promise to give it a fair shot.”

Gabriel’s smile was dazzling. “Excellent! Now let’s focus on getting some lunch so we can get to the good stuff.”

Ketch nodded in agreement. “Let’s go there,” Ketch said as he pointed at a gastropub on the corner.

“Geezer’s?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes,” Ketch said. “After all, they did name it after you,” he joked cheekily.

“Ha. Ha,” Gabriel rolled his eyes, but still amused nonetheless. “Wait! You cracked an actual joke! I didn’t know you had it in you!” He wiped away a tear that didn’t exist.

“I am a man of endless surprises.”

*

“So one of the reasons I settled here?” Gabriel said after the waitress dropped off their flights of beers in front of them. “All the rich people. It takes doing your homework to find the ones where you have to get creative, but sometimes you just want to pluck the low hanging fruit, you know what I’m saying?”

Not that Ketch could _quite_ relate, but there were days when he was thankful when his mission had been nothing more than a quick retrieve and kill.  He was about to reply when a lady approached the table.

“Gabe?!” she asked with a gasp. “Oh my god! It _is_ you!” She threw herself around Gabe’s neck. “We’ve been so worried about you! It’s like you fell off the face of the Earth!”

Gabriel delicately peeled her off. Ketch could see the tension that was filling Gabriel’s body.

“Who is you friend, Gabriel?” Ketch asked.

She turned and gave Gabriel some breathing room. “I’m so sorry! How rude of me! I’m Rachel! Gabe and I met years ago when I started cutting his hair! We used to hang out whenever Gabe was around until he just vanished.” She turned back to Gabriel. “What happened?”

“It’s…complicated,” Gabriel replied, uncomfortable with the line of questioning.

She softened and looked sympathetic. “That bad? Why don’t you swing by tomorrow night?” She suggested. “A couple of us are getting together for a backyard barbecue. I know the gang would like to see you again too!”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I mean, my friend Ketch is in town. I can’t ditch him!”

Rachel gave Ketch an appraising look and a wink. “Bring him along! Any friend of yours is a friend of ours!”

Gabriel was about to stammer out another weak excuse when Ketch intervened.

“We can’t make any promises,” he said. “But we’d love to try.” He gave her his best smile. “What time, does Gabriel have your current address, and should we bring anything if we can make it?”

She beamed again before scrambling to find a pen and grabbing a cocktail napkin. “7 pm, booze if you have a preference, and here you go! I got a new place last year. HUGE back yard, with a pool, you’ll love it! It may be a little cool to swim, but feel free to bring trunks if you want to give it a shot.”

Just then the waitress returned with their food.

“I’ll leave you guys be,” she said with a small wave. “I hope to see you tomorrow!”

Once the food was down, Gabriel leaned in. “Why did you say that?!” Gabriel demanded. The thought of being with a group of basically strangers after so long clearly unnerved him.

“I didn’t promise we’d attend, I said we would try,” Ketch explained patiently. “It may be good for you to get out and visit with them. We can say we can’t stay for more than an hour or so we have an easy out if we need it. And honestly, if the two of us can’t craft a decent cover story than we’re both pretty hopeless.”

“True,” Gabe said as he picked up a French fry to nibble on it.

“And I would also argue that of the two us, you are currently the much more sex deprived one. She was eyeing you like a side of meat.”

He grinned. “She was, wasn’t she?” He looked wistful.

“Previous one-night stand?”

“Previous friend with benefits,” he said, and then adding as he waggled his eyebrows. “And she has some hot girlfriends…”

“What?!” Ketch definitely did not squeak.

“Oh yeah,” Gabriel insisted. “We’re totally going.”

* * *

 

After a lovely hour spent in the used bookstore , the pair made their way back to the cookie dough shop.

“Welcome to Felicity’s,” a perky college-age student greeted them to the store. “Have you been here before?”

“Nope!” Gabriel said as he peered into the cases.

“Great!” she said. “Just so you know, all of our products are made from locally-sourced and organic products whenever possible!”

“Wonderful,” Gabriel said absolutely not caring about that at all. “So anyway, my friend here had a very depraved childhood and has never eaten cookie dough. What do you recommend?”

“Don’t you mean deprived?” Ketch asked.

“I know what I said,” Gabriel said with a grin, daring Ketch to challenge him.

The girl just had a bit of a frozen smile on her face. “Well, you can’t go wrong with our classic Chocolate Chip, we make it with a mix of bittersweet and semi-sweet chocolates so it doesn’t get over sweet. If you like something richer, our fudge-brownie is the best.  The sugar is great if you want to mix toppings in. We can also mix in cookie dough with any of our gelatos too!”

“What cha think?” Gabriel asked.

“I’ll let you pick,” Ketch said. He didn’t have too much of a sweet tooth, so he still didn’t know where to start.

“Let’s do one of the 3-in-1” Gabriel said. “Chocolate chip, Salt n’Swirl, Caramel and Snicker-Dude.”

“Excellent choices,” she said as she grabbed a tray and placed a small scoop onto each each and put spoons into two of htem.

Gabriel also bought a bottle of water and lead them outside.

They claimed one of the small tables. Gabriel grabbed one of the spoons and tried the chocolate chip.

“Oh yeah. This is legit,” he said pleased. “Try it.”

Ketch tried it and discovered it wasn’t overly sweet, though the texture was definitely different than anything he was used to. “This is different,” he said. “But not bad.”  He wouldn’t necessarily reach for it, but he’d be content enough to finish what they’d gotten. “Do you mind if I ask how you got into sweets? I didn’t think angels normally ate.”

“We don’t,” Gabriel said. “I mean, we don’t need to. We have enough power that our host sustains itself without it. “But I kinda had to learn to like them.”

“Learn to like sweets? Why?”

“So….you know that whole Trickster thing I’ve got going on?”

He nodded. “Loki, right?”

“Yes and no. See…when my brothers started bickering hardcore I hightailed it out of Heaven. I was looking for a place to hide and I ran into Loki in a cave.”

“How do you just run into someone in a cave?!” Ketch wondered as he tried the snickerdoodle flavored dough.

He shrugged. “Fate, maybe?  I mean, she never bitched at me about it so it mustn’t have mucked anything up. Or could be dumb luck? Of all the caves in all the world, blah blah blah. But anyway. He was having family drama at the time so he agreed to let me take on his mantle. But part of that meant was acting like him and _he_ has a sweet tooth, so” he shrugged casually. “Sweet tooth.”

Ketch nodded. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Yeah, I did. I didn’t hop on to the gravy train until after the peak of their popularity so it was never too much of a drain on my time. There was an uptick in popularity after those movies came out. I’ve never seen so many disappointed faces when I appeared. It was at least a quick and dirty way to weed out those who were genuine in wanting to worship Loki anyway.”

“Dare I ask what happened to those people?”

Ketch only got a sly grin in return.

“Would you go back to it?” Ketch said. “I mean, now that the cat is kind of out of the bag.”

Gabriel suddenly set down his spoon and pushed the dessert away, suddenly looking not hungry. There was another emotion at play on Gabriel’s face, but Ketch didn’t know the archangel well enough yet to decipher what it was.

“It’s….complicated,” Gabriel finally said.

“Well,” Ketch said. “If you ever want to talk it out, I happen to be excellent at resolving complications.”

Gabriel smiled. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

*

The dealership on the edge of the town was an odd hodgepodge of high-end German cars and practical new and late-model used all-wheel drive cars, seemingly to serve the wealthy tourists desire to occasionally indulge in absurd impulse purchases and the needs of the local population who kept the town running and lived there year-round.

“Anything catching your eye?” Gabriel asked once they’d made a cursory loop of the cars on the lot.

Ketch tilted his head, confused. “I thought we were looking for you?”

“Me? Ha!” Gabriel said. “I don’t actually know how to drive one of these things. I meant what I said about hopping around from place to place. They just aren’t that practical for me so I never bothered to tie myself down with one.”

“I don’t understand. My motorbike serves me well.”

“Well,” Gabriel said as he began ticking off reasons on his fingers. “First off, your motorcycle isn’t here. Secondly, we’ve got to get to Rachel’s place tomorrow night _somehow_. You heard those girls. Those rideshare thingies aren’t available out here and everything is far enough out that having transportation is a given. No one is going to believe that we just walked there. Third, you said it yourself: you have enemies that look for you on your motorcycle. All the more reason to own a car for when you’re not working! I’ve got dozens of aliases, we’ll just register it under one of those and no one will be the wiser! So like I said, what’s catching your eye?”

“I couldn’t possibly accept such a lavish gift,” Ketch protested. “You’ve done more than enough for me over these past few days and I –“

Gabriel cut him off, literally. Ketch found himself temporarily unable to speak.

“Money never has been and never will be an issue for me. Besides, technically, I’m registering it under one of _my_ fake names, so you can think of it as an indefinite loan if it makes you feel better. And if you really, really want to make it up to me, you can wear one of those funny little chauffeur hats tomorrow when you’re driving me to the party.”

Ketch found himself suddenly able to speak again. He considered his next words carefully.

“My hat size is 7 1/8.”

Gabriel grinned and beckoned a salesman over to assist them.

 

* * *

 

After a few mildly torturous hours – Gabriel was fascinated by the advancement in the technology included in the cars, surprising for someone who rarely even rode in cars – Ketch found himself the proud borrower of a Piedmont Green E 300. Gabriel had campaigned hard for the Maybach but backed off when Ketch pointed off that part of this was getting a vehicle that wouldn’t stand out.

And indeed, he even wore the hat as he drove the pair to the barbecue the next night, much to Gabriel’s delight.

“Can I take a picture? Let me take a picture!” Gabriel insisted. “I want to put it on my Facebook!”

“Wait,” Ketch said. “You have Facebook?!”

Gabriel took Ketch’s answer as approval and pulled his camera out of his pocket “Damn it, you’d think they’d make bigger pockets to accommodate these new phones!” They’d gotten Gabriel a new phone that day, and if he couldn’t get the flashy car, he’d insisted on the flashy phone.

“Of course I have Facebook! Doesn’t everyone have Facebook?”

“I don’t,” Ketch said.

“We have to fix that,” Gabriel insisted as Ketch threw the hat into the car, grabbed the small bag containing the hostess gift of wine and bottle of whiskey before locking the doors.

“Nice home,” Ketch commented, effectively ending the conversation.

“Very nice!” Gabriel said. “Good for her! Last time I saw her, she was in a small-ish apartment.”

Ketch wondered how a hair dresser could make the leap to such a nice place. Marriage? Roommate? Death in the family? Career change? He wondered how many stories Gabriel had missed in his absence and felt for his friend. He tried not to think about the former friends he’d left behind when he’d been forced into his current exile.

There was a small piece of paper taped to the door, inviting them to come around the back with a helpful arrow drawn to point the way. The two men dutifully followed their way around, aided by the music that progressively grew louder as they neared their target.

“A few friends” turned out to be almost a few dozen friends. Ketch wondered how much the guest list had grown when word of Gabriel’s return had spread.

“You made it!!” Rachel said excitedly as the short archangel found himself smothered in a bear hug. “I’m so glad!”

“Air!” Gabriel pantomimed, even though both men knew he didn’t actually need it, causing her to let go.

“Oops. Sorry. I just didn’t think you’d actually make it,” Rachel said with a grin. She turned to Ketch. “Do I have you to thank for it? I have you to thank for it, don’t I?” she asked as she graciously accepted the gift and the booze. “Don’t think that you won’t get a hug later,” she said as she motioned them to stay right there while she put the drinks out.

“She’s an excitable one, isn’t she?” Ketch asked.

“Isn’t it great?” Gabriel answered. “She is a Good Person,” he added, carefully adding the emphasis on each word. “Need a laugh? Need a cry? Just need someone to pig out with? The world could use more people without agendas.”

“Then where would that leave us?” Ketch asked.

Before Gabriel could answer, Rachel was back at their side. She put her fingers in her mouth and gave a loud whistle, causing all eyes to turn on them. Ketch could see many pairs of eyes lighting up in delight when they saw Gabriel by her side.

“As you all know, we were originally gathering to just enjoy the good weather, but we have fortunate enough to turn this into a genuine celebration! The prodigal son has returned!”

There were cheers and applause as Gabriel tried to not roll his eyes at the allusion that totally didn’t fit him.

Rachel smacked his arm.

“Ow!” Gabriel protested, making a show of rubbing it.

“That’s for scaring us all!”

Light laughter rippled through the crowd.

“And from what I believe, we have Gabe’s friend Ketch to thank for his appearance tonight. Please make him feel like one of the gang!”

With that, she let every return to their previous conversations. “I’ve got to go mingle, but please! Eat! Drink! Talk! We’ll catch up later, okay?” With a grin that brokered no arguments she disappeared into the crowd, leaving the pair

“Are the sharks circling?” Gabriel asked feeling a bit deer in the headlights.

“I believe they are,” Ketch muttered back. “How about we grab a place to sit and let people come to us. You can gain a vantage point you’re comfortable with and control how many can talk to us at one go of it.”

Gabriel nodded, liking the suggestion immensely. “How about that table right there?” he asked, pointing to one in the corner of the yard that would let them keep an eye on everything else.

“Perfect,” Ketch said as the pair went to claim the spaces. “Would you care for something to drink?”

“Grab me a bottle of whatever,” Gabriel said. Holding the bottle was his clutch, not the contents within it.

Ketch nodded, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Gabriel prepare himself for the onslaught. They’d made a cover story for him, and Ketch knew that Gabriel was actually excited to see these people again. He had faith the archangel could handle himself, but panic was a funny, illogical thing.

“So how’d you meet Gabe?” A guy pursing the bottles asked Ketch.

“Friends of friends,” Ketch replied easily. It was more like friends of frenemies, but that would be getting pendantic.

“He’s a good guy,” the man continued on. “But he doesn’t let anyone in easily. I’m just warning you now that if you do anything to hurt him….”

Ketch blinked. So maybe he hadn’t imagined that wink from Rachel the other day after all.

“I promise you, that is the least of my intentions.”

Ketch may have been enjoying the archangel’s company, but he was keenly aware that Gabriel could still smite him without a second thought.

“Good,” he flashed Ketch a grin. “It’s about time Gabe got himself someone that wasn’t a one-night stand.”

And before Ketch could protest, the man wandered back off, drink in hand. He shrugged it off, grabbed the beer for Gabriel, and returned to the table where it seemed like the archangel was holding court. These were humans he clearly had some affection for because Gabriel seemed as much at ease as Ketch had ever seen him.

“Babe!” Gabriel said as he happily grabbed the beer from Ketch. “Oooh, nice bitch face. I’m telling Sam that you’ve stolen his schtick.”

“Well, darling,” Ketch said, going along with it only because he’d seen some of that mask that Gabriel had let slip over the last few days firmly back in place. “When you’re around, it’s a rule that someone must wear it.”

The other chuckled.

“John.”

“Karena.”

“David.”

Handshakes were exchanged.

“Seems like you’ve figured out Gabe pretty well,” David said.

“I’d never be so presumptuous,” Ketch said. “I’m learning something new every day and not just about him. It has been an eye-opening journey.” A bit presumptuous perhaps given that it’d been all of a week, but it felt right.

Ketch noticed the surprise in Gabriel’s face, and one of those rare little smiles of honest happiness.

In the end, Gabriel had promised to give the party an hour.

They stayed for three.

*

The next morning, as they finished breakfast, Gabriel was playing with the last bit of sausage on his plate.

“So. Um. The other day you know you said you were good at dealing with complications?” Gabriel asked looking nervous.

Ketch set down the paper. “Of course.”

Gabriel slid a piece of paper in Ketch’s direction. “My complications. It’s time I dealt with them. And I was hoping that you’d be willing to help me.”

 

 


	3. Of "Loki" and Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean Winchester may argue that revenge solves nothing; Ketch believes the peace of mind of knowing that the one who betrayed you is six feet under will let you heal.
> 
> It's time for Loki to pay what he did to "Loki"

Ketch studied the list. “Loki and his children?”

Gabriel pushed his plate aside.

“So yeah. That complication?” Gabriel’s eyes flashed in anger. “Those assholes are the ones that sold me to Asmodeus.”

“What?!” Ketch exclaimed. “Why?”

“I went to them after I ‘killed’ myself, because I needed a place to hide. I figured, they hate us, what better place to hide out? And apparently, I was very, _very_ wrong.”

There was no hesitation as Ketch followed up his last question with a very simple. “Right. So does one kill a Norse demigod?”

Gabriel paused. “Really? You’re saying yes and not giving me some moralizing lecture about how revenge doesn’t solve anything?”

Ketch shrugged. “Why would I? For one thing, killing doesn’t weigh you down with guilt. Secondly, killing them won’t change what Asmodeus did too you, but it _will_ give you the peace of mind knowing that they can never betray you and therefore never harm you again. _That_ will you give the time you need to heal because you won’t be looking over your shoulder. So in my mind, revenge is an incredibly practical strategy given the circumstances of the situation.”

Gabriel gave him a dopey grin. “I knew I liked you. I’m sure Dad would take umbrage with that argument, but fuck Dad. You’re helping me and he isn’t.” He held out his hand. “Wait here a minute, I’m going to grab the plan.”

He returned a moment later with the chests.

Ketch stared at the swords. “Really? Samurai swords? Not something easy like bullets. When did you have time to get these made anyway?!”

Gabriel waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t need sleep. And yes, Samurai swords. Please don’t tell me you’ve never seen Kill Bill? Great flick. Highly recommend it. Anyway, bullets are too impersonal for this. I’d blow them all to smithereens if I could, but I just don’t have enough Grace right now.”

Ketch wasn’t convinced by the swords, but he would do his level best to make sure Gabriel got out of it alive and in one piece. “All right. So where to?”

*

Central City, Colorado.

Not a bad little city, a place Ketch would keep in mind if he got to lay low for a bit.

Ketch checked his gun. Gabriel had assured him that he knew what he was doing with the sword but give him a gun anytime. Thankfully, Gabriel wasn’t so high minded about the whole affair as to object to Ketch actually using it if need be.

“But only if I need it,” Gabriel made Ketch promise.

“And who determines if you need it?” Ketch said, not trusting Gabriel’s judgement on that. That was the kind of thing the Winchesters were apt to do and needless to say, Ketch’s opinion of the Winchester’s judgement still wasn’t all that high.

“You’ll know,” Gabriel said.

“Right,” Ketch said.

He was going to shoot the first second Gabriel got into trouble. The archangel could cuss him out later, but Ketch didn’t drag his ass out of Hell just to help him get killed all of a week later.

“I hear his footsteps!” Gabriel said pulled Ketch deeper into the corner of the alleyway they were tucked into, before completely defeating the purpose of hiding when the archangel started playing a _kazoo_ of all things.

Ketch wasn’t sure he’d ever understand Gabriel.

“Fenrir Odinsbane!” Gabriel announced, stepping out of the shadows as the demigod looked around for the source of the so-called music.

“Gabriel,” Fenrir said, voice dripping with contempt.

“I vow to do this honorably. No tricks, just mano a mano.”

Fenrir grinned and Ketch winced at the canines he could spot on Fenrir. This could get ugly real fast, especially as the first few passes demonstrated that no, Gabriel _didn’t_ know what he was doing with that sword. There were underclassmen at Kendrick’s that could have handled that sword better than Gabriel did. And when Fenrir drew first blood, that decided it for Ketch.

He put several shots into the demigod, causing him to stumble and double over.

“I thought you said you were going to do this honorably!” Fenrir growled.

“Bringing a gun to a knife fight is just smart,” Gabriel said as he used the moment to stab Fenrir through the heart, the blade sinking in with a sickening wetness as it skewered the demigod, who dropped to his knees as he died before falling down face first onto the asphalt, another victim of a senseless crime for the cops to find in the morning.

“And trusting someone you’ve already betrayed once is just stupid,” Ketch opined as he joined the others in the alleyway. “Are you alright?”

“Peachy,” Gabriel said. “I totally had him.”

“Sure you did,” Ketch said. “We need to clean that up,” Ketch said nodding to the cut on his hand. “That’ll make the next fights more difficult if you don’t take care of it.”

“Yes, _mother_ ,” Gabriel said only slightly petulantly. “No really, I totally had him!”

“You can show me in the next fight, _after_ we get some practice in. You’re lucky he didn’t slice you right open.”

“You know how to sword fight?”

“Of course. We were taught bladed weapons because guns aren’t always available or even the best choice. Plus, you never know what you have to make do with. The more weapons you know, the better you can improvise in a tough situation.

“You seem sure of your skills.”

“Should I not be?”

“Let’s have a fight when we get back to the hotel.”

“And when I win?” Ketch asked.

“I’ll wear a suit with you when we go to dinner next week with John and Karena.”

“Ooh,” Ketch said with a grin. “All right.”

“But that’s not going to happen, because when I win, you are going to do karaoke after said dinner.”

“Deal,” Ketch said. He then heard sirens in the distance. “Now let’s get out of here before they decide to head this way.”

 

 

To help Gabriel conserve his Grace, they’d flown to the city and rented a hotel room. One thing the pair had agreed upon was that neither would stay in the bedbug-and-Chuck-knows-what-else motel rooms that the Winchesters so dearly seemed to love. By some miracle, Ketch even got Gabriel to agree to let Ketch pay for it – one of the few things he’d paid for since they’d made it back to New York.

Once Gabriel had given him the general area that they expected to find their targets in, Ketch had gone for an extended-stay hotel only a few blocks away. It wasn’t exactly fancy, but it was clean and more importantly, the staff wouldn’t bother them, always a bonus when trying to stay under the radar.

One extra bonus of this place was the fact that the suite was on the spacious side. No, they couldn’t exactly move around in a real fight like one might like, but once the coffee table was moved off to the corner, there was space enough for Ketch and Gabriel to spar enough to allow Ketch to get a better idea for himself of what he had to work with – that is, once the archangel stopped whining about how much it hurt when Ketch cleaned the wound.

“Do stop whining. This isn’t even that bad,” Ketch said as he finished stitching it. “I didn’t think you guys could bleed anyway.”

“I’m trying to save up,” Gabriel said. “I have one good shot in me to use on Loki if all else fails, so I don’t want to use it on something like this.”

“Can you fight properly with it?” Ketch asked. “It’s worth the expenditure if it means you’re at your best. And no offense, but if what I saw out there is your best, then you need all the help you can get.”

“All right, Mister,” Gabriel said as he snatched his hand away. “Enough is enough. Time to show you what I’m made of!”

Ketch moved his supply kit out of the way, careful to ensure that it wouldn’t get caught in the brawl in case they got overly enthusiastic. Medical supplies, like bullets, weren’t something you wanted to scramble for at inopportune times.

“Very well,” Ketch said as he reached for the remaining wood sword after Gabriel took his and took a ready position. “Show me what you’ve got.”

As Gabriel began to attack, Ketch had to ask, “Did you learn your moves from a movie?”

“Hey! What’s wrong with The Three Muskateers?” Gabriel protested, just as Ketch tagged him on the chest.

“Nothing, but you’re dead.”

“That was a practice round! And I’m rusty! I _was_ a prisoner for almost a millennium,” he protested.

“Again, then,” Ketch said.  “Let’s knock that rust off of you, then, shall we?”

*

“And you’re dead!” Gabriel said gleefully, sword resting on Ketch’s throat. “You’re totally doing karaoke next week!”

“It only took eight rounds!” Ketch rebutted, though he had been impressed with how much Gabriel had improved round to round as old instincts gradually retook control of Gabriel’s movements, taking them from clunky and amateurish to those of a skilled warrior.

“A draw then,” Gabriel offered. “Because you didn’t say _when_ I had to win to win the bet.”

“Touché,” Ketch agreed. “A draw it is. You wear a suit and I’ll sing.” He stifled a yawn. “I think it’s time for me to call it a night.”

“You’re getting soft on your vacation,” Gabriel joked. “All demanding a full night of sleep and everything!”

Ketch had been thinking about that. It had been lovely getting that extra sleep, but he worried about getting complacent. Complacency could equal death in his line of work. He vowed then and there to get back to his discipline. The small gym at the hotel was underwhelming, but the there was a park across the street that looked like it’d be good to go running in.

“Funny, coming from an archangel who doesn’t actually _need_ sleep and yet doesn’t get up before noon if you don’t have to.”

That first morning at the house had been somewhat of a fluke, in the time since he’d learned that Gabriel was _not_ a morning person if he could possibly avoid it. It was actually pretty funny.

“I’m old! I need my beauty sleep!” Gabriel replied as he put the swords away.

“It’s not working,” Ketch opined.

“Ouch,” Gabriel mock pouted. “All right, Mr. Crankypants, just for that, I’m going to bed too. I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest, because we have more demigods to bring down.”

*

The next morning Ketch woke an hour after dawn; he enjoyed watching the sunrise as he ran. He wasn’t what you would call an optimistic man, but in those early hours as the light blossomed over the horizon he could take a few minutes and actually enjoy the possibilities of the day.

The park was beautiful, a little sanctuary in the middle of the city. The tall copses of trees helped to block the road noise allowing the singing of the birds to echo across the paths that organically wound their way through the park. It was also early enough that he’d only a few other people so far, the most recent a pretty brunette with a happy looking dog that was bounding off to chase a rabbit that lived in the bushes just off to one side. She had a flirty smile and if it weren’t for the fact that he had plans to try and murder more demigods today he might have actually flirted back, but he was focused enough that he only offered a tight smile and a nod and kept going on.

He was probably _too_ focused because he had no idea where the solidly built man that he ran into came from, and by the time he had a chance to wonder his head exploded in pain and his world went back.

*

When he came to, the first thing he noticed was his head was throbbing. The second thing he noticed was that he was tied expertly tied to a chair, arms and legs bound tightly enough that there wasn’t enough movement to let him try anything, The ropes binding him to the chair were thick too, too thick to try and wear away on a tight corner. Whomever had him knew what they were doing. The third thing was one of the sleeves of his shirt had been torn off. He didn’t remember being in a fight or what would have caused it.

He looked around the room. It was as opulent as it was garish; the owners had money but no taste. He could only think of some of his counterparts back in the Men of Letters and the low opinions would have had of his place.

“Have fun, are we?” an all-too-familiar voice said. “Kinky.”

Ketch snapped out of his reverie, head turning to follow it. He was at an extreme angel, but he could see well enough to recognize the familiar face, but the cold, malice-filled eyes told him that the being before him wasn’t Gabriel. “Loki.”

“Ding, ding, ding!” Loki said. “You are a smart one, aren’t you?”

“What do you want with me?” he asked. Trying to keep your captors talking was never a terrible idea, especially if it distracted them from whatever it was they were planning on doing to you.

“I was curious,” Loki said as he stepped away from the hearth. It only then occurred to him that the fire was lit and there was something sticking out of said fire. Whatever Loki had planned, it definitely didn’t seem as if it would end well for Ketch. “About you.”

“What is there to be curious about?’ Ketch asked as he tried to find any weakness he could in his current situation.

“Why you?”

“Why me, what?” he asked.

“Gabriel has acquaintances. He has fuck buddies. He doesn’t have friends. He doesn’t _do_ friends. And yet, here you are.”

“Oh come now,” Ketch said. “I’ve only spent a few days with him. Surely that isn’t all that remarkable.”

“But it is!” Loki insisted. “And even more so because when things go to pot his first move is to isolate himself. He hasn’t done that. Which is why having you hear is perfect. He’ll come for you.”

“And then what, you’ll kill me?” he hazarded a guess.

“What? Pfft. That’s so cliché, so banal! I mean, am I going to kill him? Of course! Odin is dead because of him. My _son_ is dead because of him. He has to die. You? Why put you out of your misery when I know that you’ll die alone and unloved anyway?”

Ketch’s eyes narrowed, but Loki ignored the expression, but did move closer to Ketch, bending down so they were eye-to-eye.

“So yeah. Killing you? Too simple. No, you’re going to survive this day. You’re going to be worse for the wear to be sure – I’m going to have some _fun_ once Gabriel is dead – but you’ll live. No. See, the real reason I had Narfi bring you here instead is because I want one of the only people Gabriel ever cared for to remember him as a _failure_.”

He stood back up and walked back to the fire to grab what he’d been fiddling with before. As his brain recognized it as a brand glowing red hot, he began pulling against the ropes, as futile as it was.

“He’s going to _fail_ to save you in this moment. He’s going to _fail_ to save himself. And every time you see my name on your arm,” Loki waved the brand in front of Ketch’s face, so close that the heat caused him to flinch and close his eyes out of self-preservation, “you’re going to think of this moment and his death and that is how he will be remembered.”

Loki gave Ketch a few light slaps on the cheek, as if they were old friends trading jokes. “Any questions?”

“Fuck you,” Ketch said.

Loki tsked. “Such a dirty mouth. I could wash your mouth out with soap or….” The demigod pressed the the brand against Ketch’s bare arm. Ketch’s screams were almost inhuman, but Loki blithely continued on. “We just make your throat too hoarse to want to talk.”

The stench of burnt flesh filled the air and Ketch all but hyperventilated over trying not to vomit at it. It was only the surge of adrenaline and the training he’d had at the hands of the Men of Letters that had kept him awake. It was probably just as well, if the frown on Loki’s face was anything to go bye.

“You’re still awake?! Hmph. That’s not any fun!” he protested withdrawing a wicked looking dagger from his suit jacket. “I’m sure we can find another way to pass the time while we –“

There was a scream from somewhere beyond the walls followed by…someone kazooing the trumpets of the US Calvary?

“Gabriel,” Ketch said raggedly. “Thank fuck.”

“Excuse me,” Loki said, “I’ve got our playdate to collect.”

He didn’t actually have the chance to go anywhere, however, as the doors sailed open followed by what appeared to be a corpse filled with multiple stab wounds that went flying past the pair and into the pillar next to Loki.

“Slepnir!” Lori cried out before hissing at Loki.

Gabriel ‘s eyes were already glowing blue as he entered the room, but they only seemed to intensify once they took in Ketch’s pallid form.

“Narfi’s back there somewhere,” Gabriel said. “Thanks, Ketch,” he added. “That practice last night really paid off too! Didn’t even know what hit him.”

“You come in to _my_ home, kill _my_ sons and you _dare_ to ignore me?!” Loki demanded, dagger at the ready.

“You’re one to speak,” Gabriel said calmly as he walked over to the chair where Ketch was held and effortlessly dissolved the ropes holding Ketch down. Ketch shakily stood and staggered over to a wall, clutching his arm etch shakily stood and staggered over to a wall, clutching his arm as Gabriel advanced on Loki, fury simmering just below the surface. “You offered me hospitality and then sold me to freaking _Asmodeus_ so he could drain me like a heroin addict?! The only reason I haven’t burnt this place to the ground around you is because you took my friend!”

A ghost of a smile graced Ketch’s lips, and he stood a little straighter in pride, even as his eyes canvassed the room for something he could use as a weapon to protect himself. Thankfully, Loki had injured his left arm, and he was right handed. His eyes went to the corpse, he saw a blade held loosely in Slepnir’s hand. He wondered if he could move slowly enough that with Gabriel’s distraction that Loki wouldn’t notice.

“You’re one to talk!” Loki complained, the bitterness in his voice that Ketch had sensed before turning into full-fledged anger. “I asked you to do _one_ thing for me when I showed you how to be. _One. Damn. Thing_. And could you manage it? Noooo. You just _had_ to show up at that hotel. Because you couldn’t stay away from your brother, Odin _died_. My father _died_. And had you just stayed away like you had promised he might still be here to sneer at me! So yeah. Fuck you! What did you expect me to do when you came begging me to hide you?!” Loki sneered.

It was decidedly weird to see the pair staring each other down, but it worked for Ketch. He was able to get to the blade. He gripped it in tightly in his hand as he studied the distance between the pair and started to work his way around to where Loki stood.

“But selling me to discount Colonel Sanders?!” Gabriel hissed. He lifted up his sword. “That lazy asshole? He fried, you know. And so will you, eventually.” Gabriel’s eyes started glowing again. “But I feel like giving you a sporting chance. Pick your weapon.”

Loki looked torn between stepping up to the confrontation and wanting to get the Hell out of dodge. Ketch couldn’t blame him; he wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that glare either. In that moment of contemplation, however, Loki’s eyes caught his.

Bollocks.

Loki’s eyes narrowed and took a step towards Ketch, and it was a look that said he had reconsidered not killing him.

“On second thought,” Gabriel said. “Fuck that.” He clenched his fist, causing Loki to freeze in place. “You _are_ a Trickster, and I’m not leaving here without knowing your corpse is rotting six feet under. Have fun in Hel, asshole.” He grabbed the sword and shoved it through’s Loki’s heart. He let go of the demigod and he dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“That was underwhelming.” Ketch opined. “Shouldn’t there have been a flashing light or a blaze of fire or….something.”

“Nah. The light show is reserved for us angels.” Gabriel said. He frowned when he saw Ketch’s arms. “Let me get rid of that for you.”

“Heal it,” Ketch said almost immediately. “But don’t remove it. Leave the scar.”

Gabriel frowned. “Why?!” he asked. “Why would you want to leave Loki’s mark on you?”

“Because,” Ketch said. “Loki intended it to be a badge of shame. A symbol of the failure of our friendship. But to the contrary. I’m alive, you’re alive, and he’s about to be eaten by the worms. I’d say this then becomes a symbol of our success. And besides,” he added. “You are just as much Loki as he is, so the mark is just as much yours, is it not?” he argued.

Gabriel’s mouth opened, then shut, then opened again as no words came out while Gabriel healed it as Ketch requested. The rune stood out brightly against Ketch’s tanned skin. The only thing brighter was Gabriel’s smile.

“I shall mark this as the day the Messenger was rendered speechless,” Ketch joked. He wrinkled his nose. “Let’s get out of here. I could use a drink.”

”


	4. Reborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which this portion of the tale comes to a close and title means multiple things.

Through out his stay in New York, Ketch had been working his contacts to try and track down Rowena so he could get that charm redone, but as of yet he didn’t have anything concrete. As frustrating as it was, he also oddly didn’t mind so much. They’d made a dinner date at the party and had decided it’d be the night that Gabriel would satisfy his end of the bet.

“Well, what do you think?” Gabriel said as he came out in his new suit that they’d picked up that afternoon. Ketch had claimed veto power when they’d gone back to the cottage and the only thing approaching a suit in the closet was some kind of 80s abomination. If he really wanted to be snobbish, he could turn up his nose at it being off the rack, but then he didn’t imagine he’d be going back to his tailor any time soon either.

“Very nice,” Ketch said approvingly, but then paused. “You know,” he said, “I’m starting to see why everyone at the party assumed we were an item.”

“Does it bother you?” Gabriel asked.

“At first I found it a bit…odd,” Ketch admitted. “But now? Not really. It’s certainly an easier explanation for us than the truth, isn’t it?”

“What?” Gabriel joked. “I mean, what’s so hard to believe that stuffy brits are stuffy when it comes to hunting monsters.”

“Strange, isn’t it?” Ketch mused while still amused. “Still, it’d be nice to actually be able to tell the truth a little more often.”

“Because you had such a social life that it was an issue?”

“Ouch,” Ketch said. “Perhaps not then, but now? Certainly.”

_I’m sexy and I know it._

“Where did I put my phone?!’ the angel wondered as he started digging through the pile of discarded clothing, before he pulled it out of his pants, triumphant. “David! How are you?”

Their dinner plans had been with David and Karena tonight.

“Oh no!” Gabriel said as he started pacing. “I hope she feels better! We’ll reschedule, yeah? Okay. Talk to you soon.” The angel hung up and tossed the phone on the bed. “Welp. Change of plans. Karena has a nasty bout of food poisoning.”

“Why don’t we go out anyway?” Ketch said. “We’re already dressed and we don’t have much of anything in the fridge.”

Actually grocery shopping wasn’t a part of being domestic that either of them had mastered just quite yet. Today’s excuses had included “well, we are going out to dinner tonight” and “there’s a farmer’s market tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said “Might as well.” Not that he needed to eat, but now that Gabriel was starting to feel stronger and Ketch had a car, they were starting to spend some time apart as they tended to kind of errands that all adults eventually had to get around to. “Waiiiiiiiiit.”

“Wait?” Ketch asked, even as he noticed the glimmer in Gabriel’s eyes. This was a look that he realized either meant something very good or very bad. It meant Gabriel had an Idea.

“You trust me, right?” Gabriel asked.

Ketch found himself answering without hesitation. “Yes, of course.” He hesitated at that lack of hesitation. The number of people he trusted that way was very small, less than one hand. But it didn’t make his answer any less true. He wondered when exactly Gabriel had managed that feet, but wasn’t going to question it.

He clapped his hands, clearly excited. “All right. Grab your wallet and your phone, and we’ll get moving.”

“Do I get to know where you’re taking us?” Ketch asked. He just knew he wasn’t going to be driving them.

“Of course not!” Gabriel said. “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise!”

“Can you blame me for asking?”

“Of course not. I’m glad that you did. It’s nice having a buddy who looks before they leap.”

“And yet you’re asking me to take that leap blindly.”

“But you _have_ said faith in me,” Gabriel retorted as he slid his own wallet into his coat.

“I do,” Ketch agreed.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Gabriel asked as he touched Ketch’s shoulder before Ketch recognized that tug that preceded getting him tugged elsewhere. It’d never lasted as long as it had this time, it was the longest three seconds of his life.

Ketch stumbled when the ground became solid under him.

“Where are …” Ketch looked up at the skyline and was nearly blinded by the endless array of vivid billboards flashing everything – ads, music videos and who knows what else – flashing at him in a language that was decidedly not English. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” Gabriel said, looking all too pleased with himself. “Welcome to Tokyo!”

* * *

 

“You should warn a guy,” Ketch complained.

“Would you have agreed if I had?” Gabriel asked, clearly already knowing what Ketch was going to say.

“Well, no.”

“Precisely. You’ve lived such a structured life. Time to be spontaneous! Have some fun! Besides, can you think of a better place to do karaoke in suits than Japan?”

“No….and it’s not like I can head home right now either,” Ketch admitted. He had no passport, and going to the Embassy was out of the question, it’d put him on too many radars. “All right, you win,” he grumbled but not really mad. “But you better feed me first. Traveling by angel makes me famished.”

Gabriel clapped Ketch’s shoulder. “Yatta!” he yelled out happily, pumping fist. “C’mon! I know a great ramen place. You’ll die and go to noodle Heaven, promise.”

* * *

 

The ramen place was barely a restaurant, the counter and seating area was as wide as the kitchen itself, made even more crowded by the three people frantically working to keep the steady flow of customers served.

“Irashaiamse!” they said in uniform as Ketch and Gabriel slid into two stools that conveniently became available only moments aren’t they arrived!

Gabriel had a quick conversation with the server closest to them that Ketch couldn’t hope to understand.

“I didn’t know you spoke Japanese,” Ketch said.

“I wouldn’t exactly be a good Messenger if I couldn’t speak the lingua franca, now would I?” he replied as a bottle of beer was set in front of each diner. “Now here’s the thing. This is a place that you’re expected to eat and scoot. So we’re going to do just that. You can thank me when we’re on our way to karaoke.”

Any commentary Ketch might have had died on his tongue as two giant bowls of ramen were placed in front of them with efficiency.

“This smells amazing,” Ketch said as he grabbed for his chopsticks.

“I’m telling you,” Gabriel said. “Nothing like the real thing. And oh yeah – slurping is good. Slurping is encouraged. Slurp like you haven’t slurped since it was beaten out of you when you were nine years old.”

“I never!” Ketch protested as he took his first tentative sip of the broth.

Ten minutes later, he totally did.

* * *

 

“Okay, was that not awesome?” Gabriel asked as they headed the few blocks down to the karaoke parlor.

“It was,” Ketch allowed. “But you do realize you have now ruined ramen for me, right? How could I ever possibly hope to eat ramen in the states after having this experience? There’s nothing that compares.”

“Impossible,” Gabriel dismissed. “It just gives us an excuse to go hunting for a better place.”

“Once your Grace has replenished.”

“But moooooooooooom!” he whined.

“Did you just mum me?”

Gabriel grinned “Sure did.”

“When did I marry your Father? I want alimony! Surely he could at least spare me a title or something.”

“I’ll have to ask Him the next time I see Him.”

“You do that,” Ketch said, before growing a little more serious. “Would you, if you could? I understand He can be difficult to track down.” He’d heard the chatter about the Winchesters having made contact with God, but wasn’t exactly in a position to ask them about it.

“Oh look!” Gabriel said as they arrived at the non-descript building. “Here we are! It’s on the second floor! Follow me.”

Ketch filed that away for later. There would be a time and place for that conversation, but now wasn’t it. Then again, he knew he’d be the same way if their roles had been reversed. He didn’t particular care for talking about his own family and he hadn’t had eons for disappointment and resentment to simmer either.

“I somehow expected more,” Ketch said as he eyed the simple space. There was a couch and a few low tables for drinks in a main area with a large screen set up and some smaller spaces off to one side that presumably could be rented out if you so desired. It was still early in the evening, so even though he could hear some music coming from one of the private spaces, the place was otherwise quiet.

“Do you need more?”

“No, I suppose not.”

Gabriel paid the rental space for the public space and ordered a bottle of sake to start out with. Once the alcohol had come, he poured a round for them both. “Rule number one: you come here to make friends. Rule number two: rule number one is a hell of a lot easier when you’re buzzed, so start drinking.”

“Kanpai,” Ketch said as he started drinking his first glass. He hadn’t had sake very often, but it was refreshingly light. He could see the appeal.

Just then another group entered the room. It was a mixed group of salaryman, including a couple of obvious gaijin like them.

“Hey!” Gabriel said offering them a wave.

Ketch was feeling a little more demure – what if this group of people didn’t want to be bothered?

“Good evening,” Ketch said with a polite nod.

One of the two women in the group lit up. “Oh my God!” she said delighted. “It’s been ages since I’ve been able to chat with someone from home that wasn’t on a telephone or a Skype screen!”

“Please forgive Laura,” one of the others said. “She is…” the salarymen looked between each other. “Excitable.”

“No trouble at all,” Ketch assured them. “I know that feeling well.”

Lauara was slightly above average in height, dark brown hair held in a work-appropriate bun and dressed in a stylish business suit.  “Sorry for my exuberance. I’ve been having a bit of homesickness lately.”

“How long since you’ve been home?” Ketch asked.

“Seven months,” she said. “I’ll go home during Golden Week. It just takes so long to get there that I might as well make it count. What about you?”

“It’s been maybe 9 months? I’m not sure when I’ll make it back home,” he said honestly.

“Yeah?” Laura asked. “Why not?”

Before Ketch could come up with an excuse, Gabriel came to the rescue.

“C’mon,” Gabriel said. “You owe me a song!”

“But I’m not even drunk yet!” Ketch protested.

“You didn’t specify that as one of the terms! So man up and let’s do this.”

Ketch groaned, but got to his feet.

“All right,” he said. “What are we singing?”

* * *

 

_Don’t Stop Believing_ lead into various American classics that everyone seemed to know until Ketch got drunk enough to not mind trying to make a fool of himself by singing along to the Japanese phonetically.

As the night had worn on and drinks emptied, Laura had become progressively more handsy – something Ketch found himself increasingly not minding. She’d excused herself to the ladies room when Gabriel stole her seat.

“You know there’s a love hotel only a few blocks from here?” Gabriel said just low enough for only Ketch to hear.

“A what?” Ketch asked.

“Just like it says on the tin,” Gabriel advised. “You can rent by the hour but,” he checked his phone. “by the time you get there you might even be able to rent it for the rest of the night.”

“And how would I find you in the morning?” That Ketch wasn’t questioning Gabriel helpful suggestion told Ketch that he was, in fact, a bit drunk. He didn’t exactly mind that fact either.

“If I get lucky,” he said, “I’ll be getting lucky with you,” he said as he nodded towards a cute Japanese girl who kept sending Gabriel flirty looks from the other side of the space. “Otherwise, you can do what everyone else does: pray.”

“Pray?”

“Pray,” Gabriel said with a serious face. “Or, you know, you could call.”

Ketch looked down at his phone and made a “I should have thought of that’ face. “I don’t think my battery will last til the morning.” He hadn’t had a chance to charge it since he hadn’t expected to be whisked across the planet.

Gabe made a gimmie hand motion and Ketch handed it over. “Et voila.”

Ketch took it back and sure enough, saw it was back up to 100%. “Why didn’t I know you could do that?”

“Says the man always telling me to use my Grace more wisely,” he smirked. “Here she comes! Good luck, slugger!” he said giving Ketch a pat on the arm for good luck as he went off to try his own luck.

Laura gladly took the now vacated seat. Ketch noted that she touched up her lipstick and smiled.

“Welcome back.” He downed the last of his drink. “And now that you are, what do you say we call it a night?”

Laura’s smile grew wide, her eyes twinkling. “I was wondering if you’d ever ask. Where are you staying.”

He glanced over to Gabriel, who was now seemed to be well on his own way to securing company for the night.

“Sharing a room” she asked, and he nodded.

“I completely get it. Hotel prices here are absurd. We can go just down the street though? My girlfriends have been asking me to review one.”

“You promise to only say good things about me?”

“If you’ve earned it,” she said, eyes sparkling in mirth. “Oh, I will.”

He sent up a quick prayer to Gabriel – both to tests it out and so he didn’t have to leave Laura’s side – and sure enough, the archangel looked up and gave a nod.

“Shall we?” he said offering her an arm.

“We shall.”

* * *

 

He woke up the next morning feeling _good._ He’d never admit to Gabriel, but Gabriel was right. Ketch had needed this. He only wished that Laura could have stayed longer, but she’d had had to go to catch the final train of the night back to her apartment. No one judged you staying in one of these places, but he didn’t blame her for not wanting to be caught out wearing the same outfit twice in a row to the office.

Still. He’d _loved_ to have had a third round before leaving the country. At least he had her number: she did occasionally travel to the states for work, who knows, maybe their paths would cross again.

He checked his phone and got moving, he only had a half hour before he had to vacate the room.

* * *

 

“Someone looks refreshed,” Gabriel greeted him.

“Someone doesn’t,” Ketch rejoined. “Rough night?”

“She kept calling for Dad,” he grumbled.

Ketch tried to not laugh; but failed.

“Ha. Ha. Laugh it up.”

“There are always gags,” Ketch offered.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” he joked.

“You’re just rusty. It’s understandable.”

“Rusty?! Me?!” Gabriel squeaked indignantly, causing Ketch to laugh even more as he pulled his phone out as it had started chirping with a new text message. He reached for it quickly, Ketch had given this number to almost no one, except for Gabriel, a colleagues also similar in exile from the Men of Letters that were even more disillusioned with his former organization as he was, another from outside of the organization from MI6 that he was owed a few favors from and the Winchesters.

“We need to get back to New York,” he said.

“But there are still so many cool things to show you!”

“And I absolutely want to see them,” Ketch said sincerely. “But one of the few people I actually trust has found Rowena.”

“You helped me take care of Loki, I’ll help you get that charm. Tell me where to go and we’ll go.”

Ketch smiled. “Thank you,” he said.

“It’s what friends do.”

* * *

 

“Gabriel.”

“What?” he asked as he pushed another button on the dash.

“Don’t make me put angelic handcuffs on you.”

“What? Why? Besides, you don’t have them on you.”

“All right, fine. I’ll use regular handcuffs. And because you have touched every single last button – physical or touch screen in this car that you could reach – at least twice – since the trip began.”

“But this is so cool!” he gushed. “Cars weren’t half this cool…you know. Before.”

“It is, as you say, cool, but I would like to manage the last half-hour into the city listening to songs in their entirety, with the exquisite speakers balanced properly and the climate consistent for the final bit of drive. Can you manage that?”

Gabriel sat back in his seat, arms crossed in a mock sulk that might have been cute had Ketch not been so annoyed at the moment. “I suppppose,” he said as he made himself comfortable again, pulling out his cell phone. “I’m making a list of what we’re going to do when this Rowena business is done.”

“Oh, are you now? Do I get to know what’s on the list?”

“Of course not!” Gabriel scoffed. “It wouldn’t be a surprise then.”

“I do have one request.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“I want to go to the MoMA.”

Fingers flew as Gabriel updated the list. “Added. I’ll take it under advisement.”

Ketch smiled. He knew that that would be as much of a promise that he’d get out of his friend. “Fair enough.”

* * *

 

Soon enough Ketch was depositing the keys in the hands of the valet. Ketch lead them into The Continental. As Gabriel looked around he whistled. “Classy. How’d you find out about this place?”

“I learned of it through work, actually. It’s a good base of operation while we’re in the city.”

“Is there a dress code you should have told me about? I could have worn a suit.”

“It is a business hotel, but you’re hardly here on business. I’d rather you be comfortable, and I’d wager that between my plans and yours that we won’t spend much time here anyway. Ah, here we are.” Ketch set his duffle on the ground.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Ketch,” the concierge said. “Welcome back. How long will you be staying with us?”

“Five days, I should think,” he said placing a gold coin on the counter.

“Excellent. Business or pleasure?”

“Personal business, then pleasure.”

A slight nod. “Very well. Room 912. Our services are still available 24 hours. Simply call if you need anything.” He handed over a key. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Ketch.”

* * *

 

Gabriel managed to keep silent until they were in their room.

“All right. I know I was messing with the radio, but I’m pretty sure that we didn’t miss a news announcement about the restoration of the gold standard so what was all that about downstairs?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out another coin so Gabriel could study it. “This business that this establishment caters to is a very specific one: assassins.”

His friend whistled. “Really? That’s some video game stuff right there. How did you find out about this place? I can’t imagine you learned about it from your previous employers.”

“Hardly, they would have bristled at the thought of brushing shoulders with mercenaries. I had been hired to take out a certain target. I did my job, and I did it well.” He lifted his duffle on the bed and began to unpack, motioning for Gabriel to do the same. “As it turns out, the target had rather more enemies than he thought, and another enemy of his had hired someone through the organization. The person who took the job was quite put out when they discovered it already completed and a few days after I was contacted and asked if I’d be interested in the benefits of membership.”

“I’m guessing not health insurance?”

“They know a guy and more importantly have an excellent one on call for those emergency situations.” Ketch said bemused. “But more like clean up crews, suppliers and the sort. Plus there are other hotels just as this spread about across the world. It’s a sanctuary space. No killing on the premises.”

“How civil of everyone.”

“Precisely.”

“So I’m guessing this is the career change you were thinking about that first night we were in New York?”

Ketch nodded. “This kind of work was a natural extension of my previous job and it certainly pays well, but it’s not as satisfying.”

“Is that so different than your work with the Men of Letters?”

“We were ridding the world of monsters.”

“Aren’t you doing the same now?”

“At the prices I’m getting paid? Perhaps. But when it’s ordered by another monster, does it count?”

“You wouldn’t count your old bosses as monsters?”

“Touche.”

A silence fell between the pair.

“So what’s the plan tonight, exactly?” Gabriel asked changing the topic to lighten the mood back up.

“Rowena has been hanging out at the Victory Club the past few days. I propose to pay her fairly for services rendered, and should that fail, I would ask you to be motivation for her to accept.”

“What kind of motivation?”

“Let’s say that she says no to my offer. What would your reaction be if I told you that she was the witch that released Lucifer from the Cage when Amara was a threat?”

The archangels eyes glowed blue.

“Perfect!” Ketch said. “Just…don’t actually kill her please. She’s about as anti-Lucifer as you can get and possibly the most powerful witch on the planet. The Winchesters need an ally like that.”

The glowing faded.

“How do you know?”

“Sam and I had a little chat while you slept. Apparently, Rowena found a way to tie Lucifer to his current meatsuit. He repaid her the only way he knows how.”

“How bad?”

“Lucifer bragged to Sam that it was ‘messy’ and ‘screamy.’”

“And knowing him, he’s probably understating the issue.”

Ketch just nodded.

“If that doesn’t convince you that my brother’s bad news, nothing will.” Gabriel opined. “Fine. I won’t kill her. But I can put the fear of Dad into her if she doesn’t cooperate, right?”

“Of course!” Ketch said. “I wouldn’t deny you your fun.”

“Great!” Gabriel said clapping his hands. “Let’s say we go get some dinner? I’m famished!”

“You don’t have to eat!”

“I don’t, but you do, and we haven’t in,” he checked his phone. “eight hours so we need to get you fed. Gotta keep you sharp for the action tonight!”

He laughed to himself. “Yes, mother.”

“Did you just?” Gabriel asked.

“Turnabout is fair play.”

* * *

 

“You know,” Gabriel said as he straightened his sport coat in the mirror, “I’m starting to understand your suit fetish.”

They were in the bathroom of the Viceroy Hotel, home of the Victory Club, refreshing themselves after a traffic accident snarled up the traffic causing them to crawl like it was rush hour.

“It’s not a fetish,” Ketch chided Gabriel. “It’s about dressing to impress. What do you hate suits so much anyway? Because your brethren wear it like good little soldiers?”

He paused. “Not that, I don’t think. I never paid them too much them too much mind. There’s just a stiffness in life that comes with a suit, I think. Like when you think of fun people, you don’t think of men in suits.”

“I’m not fun?” Ketch asked dead serious even as he pouted.

“I’m reconsidering that opinion. You were pretty awesome at karaoke the other day.”

“Why thank you,” he said as he finished drying his hands. “Just for that I’ll wear an actual t-shirt when we’re sight-seeing tomorrow.”

Gabriel gasped. “Oh. My. Dad. Do you think I can get you to wear a fanny pack too?”

“Don’t think I don’t know where you keep your archangel blade.”

He just laughed as they left the bathroom.

* * *

 

The Victory Club was an upscale lounge that was all sleek lines and warm woods. Electropop played quietly in the background, providing ambience but low key enough to all for conversation. The crowd was a smart mix of professionals in their 30s and 40s.

Ketch’s eyes scanned the rooms, and a part of him sighed with relief when he spotted her flaming red hair in the crowd.

“There,” Ketch said as he led them into the room and towards the bar to grab some drinks.

“Her? She’s so tiny! If it wasn’t for that mischievous grin you wouldn’t think she could hurt a fly.” Gabriel said as he let himself check her out, trying to keep his glances quick so she wouldn’t notice.

“Why does that sound familiar?” Ketch pondered with a little smirk as he reached down to pet Gabriel’s hair.

“I’ll have you know I was plenty tall back in the day!” the archangel squeaked, clearly indignant over the whole affair.

“What day was that? The 14th century?” He looked at the bartender who then walked up. “Two scotches, please.”

Gabriel muttered something that Ketch couldn’t understand, but figured it was just as well not to ask again and by the time the silence would have become awkward their drinks were ready. Once the bartender had moved away, Ketch asked his next question. “The blond in the right corner has been watching us watching Rowena.”

“Bodyguard?”

“Of some sort,” Ketch agreed. “Can you?”

“Of course. Mind if I have some fun?”

Ketch shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Gabriel grabbed his drink, grinned and bounded off on his assignment.

Taking a sip of his own for courage, Ketch waited until he saw that Gabriel was deep in conversation with the man.

“Good evening, Rowena,” he said sliding into the seat. “May I buy your next round?” he asked as he beckoned for a waitress.

“You!” she exclaimed, moving to act.

He held up his palms in a sign that he meant no harm. “I’m here with a business proposition.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t,” he said reasonably. “But is trust so necessary when I have cold, hard cash?”

“Both are better,” she purred yet Ketch could clearly see her trying to scan the room wondering where her muscle was.

“Looking for blondie?” he asked. “I sent my friend to deal with him so we could have a proper chat.”

“What did you do to him?!” Rowena demanded as Gabriel returned, the other man nowhere to be found.

“Oh he’s fine,” Gabriel said dismissively. “Like you care, but he’s on his way to catch a Ryde and return to the life he had before had the misfortune of running into you. I was impressed with the variety of spell work you’d bound into him though. That demonstrated some real skill there.”

Ketch watched as emotions from fear to rage played on Rowena’s face.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“My,” Ketch said. “Where are my manners tonight! Rowena, please meet my good friend Gabriel. Gabriel, Rowena.”

“Gabriel?” she asked cautiously. The wheels were turning and Ketch could tell she wasn’t liking where this train of thought was going.

Gabriel who was preening a little waved at Rowena. “Pleased to meet you. You know my brother, don’t you?”

“Your brother?” she asked, dread creeping into her voice.

“About my height, blonde hair, blue eyes. Goes by the name Lucifer?” Ketch said in an air of faux-helpfulness.

“ _Gabriel?”_  she squeaked. “Pleasure to meet ye!” she said as she plastered a smile on her face.

“I’d say likewise buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut,” he shrugged. “Hey, I told Ketch  not to kill you! That counts for something, right?” his own smile as bright and fake as hers. “But I might change my mind if you two can’t come to a deal.”

Ketch knew that Rowena didn’t care to be threatened and this time was no difference. He saw her focus sharpen.

“All right,” she said. “You want a deal? Fine. You want your charm, I want my son.”

“Your son?” Ketch asked.

“Crowley,” she said.

Ketch startled. “Crowley is your son?!”

“You knew him?” Rowena asked.

“My former employers had an accord with him. May I ask what happened him?”

“He sacrificed himself to stop Lucifer.” Her voice turned bitter. “For all the good _that_ did.”

Ketch glanced at Gabriel. Would the Archangel be amenable to such a deal? Did even have enough power?

Gabriel, for his part, looked thoughtful. “Two conditions,” he finally said after a silence that stretched interminably long.

“Name them,” she said.

“One, he comes back as human. I’m not raising a demon.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “I’ll make a proper warlock of him yet. He’s got the skills and the smarts for it.”

“That was the easy one,” Gabriel said. “The second one is up to him: he has to say yes, and if for some reason he says no, you don’t hold that against Ketch and you complete the deal.”

“But you will do your best to convince him?” she asks.

“If he asks me a question, I will answer it, but I will not sway him either way. Consent manipulated isn’t consent”

Rowena didn’t look as confident, but Ketch didn’t expect her to waste one of the best chances she had to get what she couldn’t produce herself.

“Deal,” she said.

Gabriel clapped his hands. “Excellent,” he said. “This will be fun. You kids play nice. I’ll be back.” And with that he was gone.

Rowena looked at Gabriel.

“Care for a drink?”

* * *

 

 

After the first hour, they’d retired to Rowena’s suite, the witch having proclaimed that she couldn’t wait sober. They’d grabbed that whiskey and retreated where her drink didn’t calm her nerves for very long.

“What if he says no?” she fretted and she swallowed another large mouthful of whiskey.

“What if he says yes?” Ketch asked. “What will you do?”

“Bicker with him, most likely.” She smiled. “I’ve missed his exasperated eye roll eyes. He got that from me, you know” she said sounding very much like a proud mum. He oddly found himself envious of Crowley in that moment.

“What about you?” she asked. “Do you have any kids?”

“I made it a point not to,” he said. “Much to the chagrin of my former employers _and_ my parents. They couldn’t figure out why I didn’t want to carry on the proud of tradition of breeding the next generation of Men of Letters.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“Because they wanted me to marry Lady Bevell. She was excellent at her job, but quite delusional. She called _me_ a psychopath yet somehow thought that she wasn’t.” He scoffed. “And other than that, the field kept me so busy I didn’t have time to look for someone else. And I didn’t start reconsidering those priorities until I woke up in a waste pipe after your charm did its trick. I haven’t exactly had the time to date since then.”

“Speaking of your employers, how is it you’re even here in this moment? Shouldn’t you be dead again?

“If they knew, they would try,” he agreed. “Not that they’ll find out from you, will they?”

“I assume that Gabriel would change his mind on not harming me if word somehow got out, wouldn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t not make that assumption.” He wasn’t going to speak for Gabriel, but he also wouldn’t put it past Gabriel to find a reason to kill her anyway if he got worked about Lucifer being free. They were all kind of capricious that way.

“Then of course not,” she said with a smile that was sincere enough.

“Excellent. Besides, I think we can agree that Michael and Lucifer are a much greater concern then our contentious past.”

“True,” she agreed. “I’m sure the Winchesters have it hand. Although I’m starting to wonder if the Winchesters are starting to develop a bit of a complex. You know, they get such an adrenaline rush from saving the world that they’ve started to break it just to keep getting that high.”

“If I trusted Dean to not sabotage my parachute, I’d take the boys sky diving. There have got to be healthier outlets that addiction.”

Rowena nodded eagerly but was interrupted by a knock at the door before she could reply.  He watched her unconsciously bite her lip. “Come in,” she called.

Gabriel stood at the door, by himself and Ketch watched Rowena deflate. He actually felt terrible for her, because the small woman looked even more frail.

“Turn that frown upside down. He took some convincing, of course. He must have asked ‘Really? She _prayed_ to you to convince me to come back?’ at least a half a dozen times, but he can tell you that himself.”

Gabriel stepped aside and there stood Crowley. He was just as Ketch remembered him. If he was feeling powerless for being human, he didn’t give off that air.

“I had to bring him back in his current meat suit,” Gabriel apologized. “His other body was long gone.”

_And Gabriel didn’t have the energy to expend to get it back_ , Ketch read between the lines.

“That’s fine,” Rowena squeaked as she and Crowley stared at each other, taking in the _realness_ of the moment.

“Mother,” he finally said.

“Fergus,” she said, a little breathless but her smile no less dazzling.

Ketch tugged on Gabriel’s arm and lead them to the opposite side of the room so they could have the illusion of privacy.

“How are you holding up?” Ketch asked.

“I’m good,” Gabriel said. “We’ll have to fly the old-fashioned way when we had back to Tokyo, but I’m good.”

“You didn’t have to do this,” Ketch said. “I’m sure I could have found another witch.”

Gabriel smiled and clapped Ketch where Loki’s brand lay hidden under the suit. “Almost everything I’ve done in my life since I left Heaven was for myself. My amusement. My pleasure. My attempt to stave off boredom. When I did do something nice for someone else it was because someone prayed to me or prayed to Loki.  Doing this? Doing something that only benefited you because I wanted to? It felt pretty awesome.” He winked. “Don’t worry, I got this. I still have plenty of juice left. Your babysitting has been excellent and I’m well on the road to recovery.”

Ketch smiled, genuinely touched and unsure of what to say.

“Now, now, Mother,” Crowley’s voice floated over the room. “A deal’s a deal.”

“Always with that honorable streak,” she said, amused. “Come along boys, let’s get this done.”

* * *

 

An hour later, freshly armed with a tingle of power dancing along his skin that he knew would last about a day as the magic settled in and Rowena’s phone number so he could call her if he needed a reup, the two men waited for the car to be pulled from valet.

“So what now?” Gabriel asked.

“We enjoy our long weekend, and then I think it’s time to put down roots here. Going back to England holds no appeal.”

“Need a real estate agent?” Gabriel asked, sounding a little hopeful. “The grandson of the guy who sold me my current place still has an agency in town.”

There was a small part of him yelling at him to say no, to disappear back into the swell of humanity. A much louder part of him had grown to enjoy this _connection_ with others, even if they weren’t actually human. He wasn’t ready to give that up yet.

The car pulled up. Ketch tipped the valet and slid into the driver’s seat. Before he could change his mind, he allowed himself to follow a selfish desire that made him more vulnerable, not less.

 “Give me the number tomorrow?” he said. “I’ll make an appointment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This felt like a good place to give it a wrap. I am working on sequel fic, but not sure how I'm going to post that one yet :)


End file.
